Of Blood, Ice, and Fire
by mercutio-rane
Summary: In the wake of the second war, werewolves live a life of bigotry and full moon incarceration. Destitute and in poor health, Remus hangs on by a bare thread as Tonks fights for her lover and Harry for his new godfather. RLNT Two chapters left to write!
1. Beginnings

_A/N: This first chapter references the third installment of "Random Acts" where James and Sirius take Remus mountain climbing during their second year at Hogwarts. You don't have to have read that chapter to enjoy this one, though._

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"**Of Blood, Ice, and Fire"**

Harry hiked alongside Remus on the mountain's icy slopes, throwing him a worrisome glance as the werewolf faltered a bit and breathed in deeply.

"I'm doing fine, Harry," he assured.

"Couldn't this have waited? I mean, at least until you got better?"

Remus laughed hoarsely and smiled. "Well, I think I've plateaued in my recovery….so now's as good a time as any."

Harry looked down in the snow then away for a minute before he glanced back at Remus as they moved onward and upward. He hurt all over. Remus had to feel even worse.

In the wake of the war's ending, everyone had their wounds, their phantoms. Some more than others. Seamus would probably never leave St. Mungos, his blue eyes wide and sunken, his mind tethered to a nightmarish existence no one could pull from him from.

And Remus? Dark jagged scars cut into his mangled left arm, leaving it marginally useful. His right eye remained covered by a brown leather patch tied around his graying hair; and an angled scar crept from under the leather and ran from his cheek to the edge of his jaw where the wound had gone deepest, cutting to the bone.

Greyback had wreaked his worst havoc in the war's final days, biting both muggle and magical children at random and spreading his curse like the worst of plagues throughout London.

And Remus had tracked him down like one animal tracks another and fought him to the death, anger and hatred raging within him as he tore Fenrir apart, nearly losing his own life in the process.

Harry had stood with Molly in the Grimmauld hallway when Remus, caked in dried blood and clad only in filthy oversized jeans, fell through the door like a dead man. Molly's terrifying shriek brought everyone running, and Harry gathered him into his arms, saw in the werewolf's peaceful face the look of someone who feels his death was not all for naught. And Harry knew that Greyback had met his own.

But Remus survived. And as he healed and regained his strength under The Order's combined care, it became obvious to everyone that in the wake of Greyback's reign of terror, Remus would live a life of prejudice beyond anything he had experienced before.

It was one of many changes they would all have to face in the following months of newfound….peace. But they had all begun searching for a world to call home again. And slowly, they found it.

Remus came and went from their lives, living on the bare edge of the magical world and looking even more shabby and sickly with each passing visit, until Harry had realized there would come a time when Remus would no longer show….

Then, in the dead of a still and silent night, Remus had appeared at Harry's London flat and asked, almost timidly, if he would like to go on a trip with him. To climb a mountain. But they'd have to leave now.

"Now?" Harry had asked incredulously. "It's 2:00 am."

"I feel very strongly that I should take you to see this place today."

Harry immediately thought Remus had lost his mind, had mentally shattered in the wake of war like so many others who would never be whole again.

But he had grown to love Remus and desperately wanted to help this man who rarely asked for anything and accepted so little. He would accommodate Remus. Even if it got him out of bed at 2:00 am to portkey to France and climb a bloody mountain in the dark.

The sun had finally risen an hour ago as they moved upward, tiny dots on the side of a beautiful mountain in Chamonix Valley. A crisp blue sky stood out beautifully from the white sloping shores of the peak where their feet sunk into the packed glacier ice, the wind a bare breath on their faces as the sun touched them gently and made the snow sweat in a light surface melt.

"How much farther?" Harry asked with a grunt as he reached forward with his borrowed axe to boost himself up the steep incline.

"Actually, we're almost there. You can't see the summit here because of the angle of the slope. But when we go about 500 more meters, you'll see it." He turned to Harry and gave him the sad, winsome smile that had become his most common attempt at cheerfulness since the war ended.

"And when you see it, you'll think it's the most beautiful sight ever, especially since it took us half a day to get up there."

"So that's why we started so early?"

Remus nodded then stopped and looked at Harry apologetically.

"I haven't really told you much of anything, have I? Let's take a water break."

Harry removed his backpack and hesitantly helped Remus pull off his when a shoulder strap caught on the elbow of his bad arm.

Harry plopped down and, for the first time, took in the amazing view before him. They had climbed in the dark for so long that when the sky unlidded its eyes and the sun crept around to light the world, he felt magically transported. Up here with no magical aids, of his own accord. He felt empowered by that and by the beauty of the view but didn't know why.

Remus took in the scenery view like an elixir then turned and studied Harry, bit his lip before he began.

"Today is…"

"It's the anniversary of my parents' deaths," Harry said bluntly, without emotion.

Harry had planned to lock the doors and hole up for the day, hide from his friends and especially the reporters and onlookers who often lingered outside his flat. And he suddenly realized what a wonderful alternative Remus' outing had given him.

"I felt…" Remus faltered. "I don't know why, but I felt this was the best day to take you to this place. Your father was a mountain climber, did you know that?"

Harry raised his eyebrows for a second then shook his head, surprised.

"And your grandfather, as well. James and Sirius took me to climb this mountain once. It was one of the greatest gifts I've ever received. And I wanted to pass it on to you."

Harry couldn't feel his feet…but he had nothing but pure gratitude for Remus' gift.

"Thanks for bringing me. It's so beautiful out, and...you haven't been around in a while. It's good to see you…and this amazing place, too."

They sat for quietly for several minutes, listening to birds in the distance, the wind below threading through trees like the sound of a mild ocean.

Remus shifted his feet uncomfortably before he began.

"Harry…James and Sirius were there for me so many times. They were both your fathers. And…I've let them down. I've let you down."

"I don't understand."

Remus gave him an accommodating look.

"I think you do, Harry. You're just too kindhearted to admit it…..When Sirius died, it fell to me to look out for you. But I ran….I threw myself into the cause. I put up a veil of my own, tried to forget that I loved people and that…that maybe some of them loved me, as well."

He briefly reached out to touch Harry's arm then looked back toward the remarkable view.

"I forgot you. I could have made an effort to stay in touch, to be there for you if you needed someone, if you needed to see a letter coming through the window. But I didn't. I'm sorry. And…"

Harry thought it odd but also wonderful to see a look akin to pride in Remus' face.

"You're a young man, now. It's not like you need a father…or a big brother or what have you, but I just want you to know that I love you, Harry. As much as I loved your father and Sirius, and that's saying something. I don't know if it's right for me to call you family, but I do feel that way. And if you'd like to think of me as the same, I'd be honored. I….I'd like to start over, I guess. Or maybe pick up where we left off after our patronus lesson," he added hopefully with a smile.

At his age and after so many years of going it alone, Harry thought he had moved beyond needing such connections; but in that moment, he felt seven again, standing in the Privet front yard as the Dursleys drove away for another weekend outing without him. And Remus had just walked up, arms open.

"So you'll be my godfather then?" he said tentatively.

"Godfather?" Remus looked shocked.

And Harry nodded slowly and then smiled widely when the werewolf's face softened in the wake of hearing the word.

He leaned in and pulled Harry into a one-armed hug. "Of course." Harry squeezed him back, and took a moment to worry about the thin body he could feel beneath Remus' shabby coat.

Finally, they separated, noses sniffing a bit from the altitude and the moment as Remus wedged a thermos between his knee and bad arm to unscrew the lid and pour steaming cocoa into the cap then handed the thermos to Harry, who took it gratefully.

He sipped the hot contents, felt the sweet fluid warm his chest as he drank. "I really needed this today, you know. Needed to get away. I can barely walk on the streets since….since I killed him."

Remus considered Harry's choice of words. _Not since the war ended…Since I killed him…_

"I don't know if that will ever end for you. You were 'the boy who lived' for the first part of your life. And now you'll be 'the man who destroyed Voldemort.'"

"I just want to be Harry," he said quietly.

"What will you do in the Fall?"

Harry took a deep breath. He hadn't really thought of what to do next. The last month or so, he had walked around in a daze, still reeling from the heavy load that had filled his aching mind for so many years.

"Well….Hogwarts reopens next month….. Finish school first, I guess. Captain the quidditch team, hopefully. Focus on chasing a snitch as much as I can, probably even over my studies."

After a moment, he added with a smile that hinted of boyish embarrassment. "Spend time with Ginny."

"Be a teenager," Remus nodded. "Maybe for the first time in your life."

"Yeah..…I guess you could say that….be a kid with a regular life for once….and try to forget."

"Forgetting is not always best."

Harry felt the werewolf's close gaze on him as he turned to ask, with a bit of regret, "But do you…do you think about it? About killing Greyback? I mean, he was the one who took so much away from you. And then he went on to hurt others. And suddenly, it was your job to stop him."

"Like you and Voldemort…."

"Yeah."

Remus sighed and raised the thermos cup to take another sip but dropped his hand before it reached his lips.

"Someone had to stop Voldemort, Harry. And Greyback, as well. I don't regret…..taking his life….but the road I took was wrong. And sometimes that's the harder reality to face. My ethics, my concern for our world didn't make me kill Greyback. In the end, my hatred drove me to kill him. And hatred shouldn't be the driving force of anything."

Harry shook his head in immediate disagreement. "I hated Voldemort. I couldn't have killed him otherwise."

"But the hatred you felt stemmed from love. And love is stronger. Dumbledore taught you that….he taught us all that."

Harry simply shrugged, a young man's anger still evident in his eyes as he admitted, "I know love is stronger. But sometimes anger will get the job done when love won't. It's not always about strength. Sometimes, it's about the right tools. I wasn't protecting anyone when I killed him. I just….I just revenged my parents."

"You think it's pure anger now; but over time, I think you'll find it otherwise. And that will make it easier to bear."

Remus drank in the view, his heart heavy for the hard lessons Harry had bourne. And after a long silence, Harry broke the stillness with a small voice.

"Maybe it was the same for you…with Greyback."

"No…."

Remus winced as the memory of Fenrir's mauled throat gushing blood flashed across his mind. "I'm afraid not."

Harry just nodded and stabbed lightly at the snow with his axe, waiting for him to continue.

"When you keep things bottled up inside -- hate…despair…prejudice… you play with the worst kind of fire, Harry. You can't put everything terrible that ever happens to you in a little pouch and hide it away in your soul to fester. Eventually, that refuge becomes too caustic…or too full to contain all the grief, the fear, the anger…And it explodes. And that's what happened when I went to kill Greyback. He died for everything dark in my soul that could no longer be contained.…..I killed him to sate my own pent up despair more than to ameliorate the lives of others."

"Is that why you turned down the medal The Ministry of Magic wanted to give you? Because you…I don't know…because you feel guilty?"

The werewolf gave a bitter laugh. "Harry, The Ministry is responsible for the registry number burned into my chest. I'm not interested in tokens from them."

"But accepting it would…it might make things easier for lycanthropes now that this is all over."

"No," Remus said quietly. "What's done is done. I don't need recognition for what I did. Don't want it in the least. Greyback is gone." Then he added in a winsome voice, barely a whisper, "Children can play in freedom again."

"What happened to rest of the pack?"

"Some were put to death….others are in Azkaban….a few…a few of the young ones who showed a glimmer, who lived on the fringes, they're in rehabilitation at the Dark Creatures Institute…..They want me to talk to them."

Harry looked pleased. "You should."

But Remus put up his hand in dissent and said, "I'm no psychologist. I'm not the most stable of people myself, even I can admit that."

"I don't know, I think you're pretty stable…..about most things."

Remus seemed to suddenly remember where they were, perched on the edge of a mountain with the daylight bleeding away amidst their talk. This wasn't the kitchen of Grimmauld, for Merlin's sake.

"We need to get moving!"

They hiked upward for a good thirty minutes in companiable silence before Harry found the gumption to ask a question that had plagued him all month. It shouldn't have. After all, it was none of his business. But more and more often, he found the happiness of others integral to his own.

"Remus?"

"Hm."

"Do you think you and Tonks will ever get back together?"

Remus was quiet for several steps. "No, Harry. Tonks is a bright, talented young woman. She has a wonderful future ahead of her."

Harry brooded immediately at what he had come to call Remus' SOS response. Same old shit. Same old ridiculous shit he spouted every time his relationship with Tonks came up in company.

Remus risked a look over at Harry and saw the tension in his jaw.

"She's been talking to you, hasn't she."

"Some."

They walked a bit more in silence.

"At my age, you get quite adept at recognizing delusional behavior in other people. Tonks needs someone. She thinks it's me, but it's not."

His light laugh added bitter weight to his next words. "And it's a big ocean…There are lots of fish out there that aren't floating on the top like I am."

"So….people get older and see more in life. They get better at seeing delusional behavior?"

"I think so."

"But not in yourself?" Harry asked lightly.

"What?"

"You recognize delusional behavior in others but not in yourself?"

Remus looked amused. "Not necessarily. When you get older, you're just more able to see it…in general."

They breathed hard as their boots crunched into the snow methodically. In the quiet, Harry's mind raced and he found new energy in his steps as he formulated an attack.

"So…this godfather/godson thing, it works both ways, right? I mean, I can do things for you, too, right?"

Remus threw him a troubled glance.

"Harry, I don't expect anything from you."

"No, I mean, to some extent, I'll mess up sometimes and you'll keep me in line. Because that's what fathers do. But being, like you said, practically an adult now, I think I could do the same for you. Because we look out for each other. That's what families do. Right?"

"You'll keep me on track, as well, is that it?" Remus said with an amused grin.

"Absolutely…." Harry said seriously. "So let's talk about what's best for people. You're doing me a favor, taking me out here to show me a mountain that meant something to my dad, sharing a part of his past with me. And that's awesome. I mean….this is hard."

Harry grunted into a step.

"It's hard to be climbing this thing, but it means a lot to be able to tap into something that my dad loved. And I love this, too. In fact, I want to climb more after this."

"Good! I'm glad."

"And I think I know why he and my grandfather did this. It's all about sacrifice. Sacrificing your comfort long enough to see something amazing. It's concrete. And sometimes, that in itself is comforting. This for that. A struggle in exchange for something beautiful and fleeting."

Remus smiled to himself, losing the crinkle in between his eyes for a moment. "You definitely have your father's heart, Harry."

"My dad knew about sacrifice, didn't he. About sacrificing for a cause. And sacrificing to help others. And he was a good judge of what people needed most. People tell me that all the time, that he looked out for others."

"He did," Remus said with a heavy grunt as his crampon got stuck on a chunk of ice.

"And Sirius was the same way, wasn't he? And so are you. You know what's good for others lots of times. You knew this would be good for me."

Remus knocked the ice off his boot with a whap from his axe and smiled curiously at Harry, sensing a turn in the conversation as they continued upward.

"I thought it would be. I'm glad you're enjoying the climb."

Harry ignored the small talk.

"Sometimes you're very good at determining what's best for people, Remus. You really are. But sometimes,…..sometimes you can't see the bloody building for the bricks. In fact…..I've never met anyone more self-deluded in my entire life."

Remus stopped and looked at Harry intently, a hardness in his features.

"Harry, I know where you're going with this. And bottom line is that I'm not interested in dooming Tonks to a life of disenfranchisement."

The werewolf immediately turned toward the summit again and kept hiking upward.

"Disenfranchisement…what's that?"

"You know what it means, Harry."

"No, tell me what it means."

"It means…It means she would be deprived of a normal life with all its regular rights and privileges by staying involved with me."

Remus barely got the words out before Harry continued his attack.

"But what if Tonks feels that way when she's not with you? Doesn't she deserve to be happy, to be with the one she loves? Don't you think it's harder when the person keeping her from that happiness is the very person she focuses that love on? If Tonks feels disenfranchised when she's not with you and you feel she's disenfranchised when she is…well." Harry laughed, finally seeing the absurdity in it. "Then someone is seeing this whole relationship the wrong way."

"She is," Remus blurted adamantly as he stomped upward into the snow in such a childish way it made Harry smile.

"I think it's you."

After two more steps, Remus stopped again and looked at Harry guardedly. "Has my personal life become everyone's business?"

"Let's just say the entire Order thinks you're wrong. And your godson….Oh! And all your former students."

"Merlin.." Remus muttered with an incredulous laugh, shaking his head.

"Hey, people needed gossip in times like war."

"I see. If you can't gossip about romance, there's no hope for humanity."

"Exactly. So everyone knows. And everyone thinks you're being stupid. So I just want to say.."

Remus' wary look made him falter for a moment.

"If you're the only one who feels this way, is it possible that you're the delusional one?

"Harry…we need to keep climbing."

"I can talk and climb at the same time."

"Wonderful."

"And you can, too. So talk."

"Harry, unless all of those people have lived my life, they have no say in my perception of things." He stabbed hard into the ice and cut a step into a slippery portion of the bank with his boot. "No one, not even you, can know what my life has been like."

Suddenly, he turned to Harry with anger in his uncovered eye. The scar across his cheek flushed a livid red.

"I've lived on the streets, I've gone years without work, almost died from illnesses that healers could have easily treated because I couldn't afford the potions. I'm destitute, unemployable, and disabled. I have no access to wolfsbane anymore and being one of the oldest living lycanthropes, I think it's safe to say that from a health standpoint alone, my days are numbered. Loving me is not a good idea."

He took off climbing at an surprisingly fast pace, and Harry addressed his back as he tried to keep up.

"But you said earlier that you came to your senses; you remembered that people loved you."

"I meant you, Harry. I wasn't talking about anyone else but you."

"McGonagall said she's talking to the Ministry officials about having you reinstated at Hogwarts. She really wants to make it happen."

"The new laws forbid it. It's not a possibility."

"It is! The war is over, and the rules will change…… And Poppy said your arm is getting better. It just needs more time. And she said she could heal your eye if you'd let her, but when you found out how much time she'd have to invest, you told her 'no.'"

"And she respected my decision."

"It's always the same with you!" Harry stopped abruptly, his shout echoing throughout the valley.

Remus quit moving, as well, but kept his back to Harry as he threw over his shoulder, "Harry..I didn't bring you up here to argue. Can't we talk about this later?"

Harry felt his ears burn, his gloved fingers clenching around the cold metal of his axe. "We'll talk about it now!"

With utter calm, Remus dropped his pack to the snow and gave Harry a mild gaze as he said quietly. "Alright…I'm listening."

"Everything is business to you. It's all about investment. Like you think you're an old broken-down house, and no one should be interested in putting some time and effort into you."

"Harry -"

"No! _You_ listen!" He could practically feel his blood boiling. "Stop pushing everyone away who wants to help you! Did you ever stop and think that seeing you happy would make us happy? That when you pull yourself away, we hurt, as well? Look what you did to Tonks! She was physically ill when you lived with the pack! She _hurts_ when you're gone. _You_ do that!"

Remus visibly flinched at the accusation.

"She's –"

"She loves you! Would it be so hard to love her back?"

Remus' face crumbled in frustration. "You don't understand, Harry, I _do_ love her!"

"And in spite of that, you'll just let yourself waste to nothing in solitude and poverty? And push her away, along with your health? And your career? I think…I think you're putting all your denial into a little place in your soul…and when all that denial gets too pent up, you'll die. And a big piece of us will die along with you. For nothing! Just…just stop running. It's like you said. It's the worst kind of fire. Listen to your own advice!"

"Harry, this isn't the same thing. It's not connected."

"It _is_. It is the same!" Harry's low voice trembled in anger, and Remus looked deep into his eyes…Lily's eyes….and shifted his weight.

"You can't see it….Her life will be harder….for loving me."

"She doesn't care."

"She'll be monitored by intelligence within the Ministry. They won't even allow us to legally marry."

"She doesn't give a shit about a sheet of paper."

Remus looked into the melting snow, brought his good hand up to rub across his mouth. In the still, perfect air, Harry could hear the scratch of his five o'clock shadow under the palm.

"Just talk to her," Harry pleaded.

When Remus didn't say anything, he pressed gently. "You're my family now. My blood, and I'm yours….Didn't you promise to be there for me now? So be there. I've been absorbed with things, too, you know. I've watched you both suffer for a long time and did nothing about it. I need to fix things before I can go on with my life. Can you understand that?"

Remus nodded lightly, looking away from his godson. "I know what that's like, Harry."

"So I'm asking for a favor, okay? I'm asking you to believe you're worthy of good things for just one bloody week. Spend some time with Tonks. And with me. Talk to McGonagall about the position. Let Poppy help you. Please?"

"Harry," Remus began uncomfortably. "Today was supposed to be about you, about something that was important to James."

"My father's not here," Harry shot back earnestly then added, "But if he were, he'd say the same things. I'm sure of it. You're right, today is about my parents. And today, I guess, they're speaking through me….promise me, Remus. Seven days…"

Remus felt cornered…and defeated. And he couldn't find a place to hide on this one.

After a very long minute, he forced a smile to accommodate Harry and follow through on his newly laid promises.

_What the hell…._

"We'll see what the week brings."

Harry visibly relaxed, the tightness in his shoulders and chest falling away. "Can you stay with me in London? I have an extra room. Tonks lives nearby and…and I'm not a bad cook….On Sunday, we could go to the burrow for the day. Molly's been desperate to feed you, as well."

Thinking on Molly and her good intentions, Remus gave Harry a genuine smile then a small, silent nod as he cleared his throat. "Alright…it's settled, then….Now let's get to the top of this thing."

When Harry came up beside him, he put his hand lightly on his godson's back as they continued to climb.

"You're a brutal hiking partner, Harry," he said, trying to create a light moment, but Harry could hear the truth in his voice.

"So how much farther?"

Remus looked up and squinted into the afternoon sky. "That's it, right there," he said with a surprised laugh.

They both walked the final steps side by side, shoulders hitting together occasionally in their exhaustion as they reached the small flat pinnacle and the world opened up around them, all things visible in a pure and complete way that made Harry's mind reel. He took in the view all around them, the perfection of this animate painting sprawling into every corner of their visible world.

They sat down heavily on the summit and shared a long and comfortable silence. Harry indulged in a good look at Remus, his overgrown hair brushing at his sharp cheekbones, his face intent, as if he pined away for something he could finally see clearly.

Eventually, Remus broke the stillness.

"Congratulations, Harry. You've just climbed your first mountain," he said quietly with an affectionate smile. "James would be very proud of you." He rummaged through his pack for some food and a heat-spelled container of soup.

"Can't believe we made it up here…everything is so far away," Harry murmured with a silly grin. And Remus let his eyes roam across the valley as he handed Harry half a sandwich and the entire container of broth.

"Not….not far away, really….more complete, because we see everything at once. Being up here is…pure clarity.

Harry studied him carefully. "You've been up here more than once?"

"Quite a few times." Remus stole a quick glance at Harry before he added softly, "You know…Earnest Hemingway once said that we don't take trips. Trips take us….. Today hasn't gone the way I planned for you, really. Or for me, either. But this trip…I think I'll take home something that I've never found up here before."

Harry was curious but almost afraid to ask. "What…what did you find?"

He was surprised to see immediate and heavy tears fall down Remus' face as he looked across the valley earnestly then met Harry's eyes. And with as much emotion as Harry had ever heard from the werewolf, he croaked out one word.

"Hope."

_**

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**__**tbc**_

_Author's Notes: __This started out as a one-shot and over the past few months has blossomed into a full-fledged story. At first, I didn't want to continue it, thought that writing about the inevitable good things that would happen to Remus if he let go of his stubborness and allowed people to love him again would be obvious and boring. But it has taken a lot of turns, through full moon holding dungeons, political upheaval, and a passionate love affair. And as of now (I'm currently writing chapter 13), it's still chugging ahead. It will be about 20 chapters when finished. _

_Just to let you know, Nymphadora Tonks, Severus Snape, Dolores Umbridge, and Kingsley Shacklebot all figure prominently in this story._

_I hope you continue to read and enjoy the trip. :)_


	2. Crossroads

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for wanting this continued, guys! I had sort of planned on leaving it a one-shot, but __I agree with Ishie who said I couldn't leave Remus in such "a state of disrepair." That made me laugh pretty damned hard! _

_Anyway, hope you enjoy it. From here on out, this piece will cover the seven days following their climb. _

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"**_Now this is the Law of the Jungle – as old and as true as the sky. _****_And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die. _**_**As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the Law runneth forward and back – **_**_For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."_**

**_from "The Law of the Jungle" by Rudyard Kipling_**

**

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****Chapter 2 - "Crossroads"**

Harry felt thrown into a different world when he and Remus apparated to the bare edge of Muggle London and walked through the streets together, clothing still damp and dirty from their climb.

The concrete jungle swirled about them, everyone and everything moving with the desperate pull of time – appointments to keep, meetings to attend. Things moved with a dire urgency that didn't transfer to him, as every fiber of his being hummed with the memory of ice and struggle and perfect moments high above the clouds.

He and Remus had done something amazing – climbed Mont Mounier, just like Remus and his dad did….and Sirius….Merlin, but he missed Sirius. And he didn't want to lose Remus, as well, especially now that the wall his former professor had built between himself and everyone else had seemed to weaken.

Harry wanted to see that wall torn to bits, destroyed completely. Hadn't they both spent enough of their lives engulfed in loss, drifting in a world of uncertainty and hardship? Hogwarts had provided them with a place to anchor once. And soon, Harry could return to Hogwarts. And Remus could, too, if he wanted. Or, more appropriately, if he let himself.

_We need him there. And he needs stability and purpose again, even if he doesn't want to admit it._

Deep in his thoughts, Harry walked several paces before he realized that Remus had stopped at a crossroads behind him. Harry turned to find him standing still, hands in pockets as he gazed down a side road with a distant, tired look on his face.

Remus felt eyes on him and turned back with a sigh and a resigned smile.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I have to say 'goodbye' here." He walked over and hooked his good arm around the young man's neck in a small hug, but Harry pulled out of the embrace immediately to look at him.

"What are you talking about? You're going home with me. Remember?"

Remus pointed upward briefly with one finger and gave Harry a look that almost spoke of shame.

"Full moon, Harry." He shoved the hand back in his pocket and pushed downward, pants slipping down the sharp hips of his thin body. Harry studied the ground in thought, his mind racing with options.

"Well, you can use the Grimmauld basement, like you did when The Order reformed. Right? Let's go to Grimmauld."

Remus gave him a small, accommodating smile.

"Harry, I have to go to London City Holding on the full moon now. All werewolves do."

"Why? I mean…."

Harry trailed off, finding everything he wanted to say caught just beyond his mind's ability to explain it. This wasn't fair. The world was supposed to be different now….better. Why was it so hard to fix things, to put life in order again?

Remus shook his head slightly at the frustrated look on his godson's face and explained, "It's not a choice for me, Harry. If I don't go, there'll be a warrant out for my arrest in the morning. Not reporting is a felony. And it really wouldn't make my year to have Kingsley…or even worse, Nymphadora, hauling me off in cuffs and taking me to Azkaban."

"I'll come get you in the morning."

"That's quite alright," Remus said, answering too quickly. "I'll see you in a few days."

Harry suddenly felt overcome with a strange panic. "You gave me and Tonks seven days. On the mountain, remember?"

"I know." Remus looked troubled and glanced away. "But I…I have to-"

"So I'll come get you in the morning."

"No," Remus said emphatically.

"Why?" Harry blurted back, harsher than he intended.

Remus' eyes traced the alley for a moment, then he rocked on his heels and tapped them down decisively with a quick nod of his head, an all-too-practiced look of detachment on his face.

"Because, Harry, there are some things no one should see unless they absolutely have to. I'll be by to see you in a few days…alright? Do not come for me."

He lowered his head to catch Harry's eyes, and the young man nodded sullenly.

"Thank you for climbing Mounier today, Harry. It meant a lot to me…that I could pass that experience on….James would have been so proud to find his love of mountaineering living in you, as well."

"Merlin…thank you for taking me," Harry said, finding it ridiculous that Remus would offer thanks when the trip meant just as much to him personally.

Remus gave him a hesitant smile and with a small wave turned his back and walked hurriedly down the dark alley criss-crossed with furtive shadows. Suddenly, Harry realized he still had the backpack full of equipment.

"Remus!" he yelled, his voice echoing across wet bricks and narrow walls. "The climbing gear! Was it rented at Diagon?"

Remus turned and walked backwards a few paces, hands in his pockets as he called back, "Keep it! It was your father's!"

Harry warmed at the thought and jumped up to pull the heavy backpack forward on his shoulders. And with a very decisive air, he headed to Tonks' flat.

_**

* * *

** _

**tbc**

Next chapter, Harry visits Tonks and decides to disobey his new godfather's first request. ;)


	3. Cartography

**Chapter 3 - "Cartography"**

No one answered at Tonks' door, and Harry had made to leave when he saw her walking down the sidewalk with a small grocer's bag in one hand and her work briefcase in the other.

A dull brown scarf wrapped around her neck matched the rest of her earth-toned attire, and she walked with the slow cadence of someone who found no joy in the evening air. But her eyes brightened as they looked up and caught his.

"Harry," she called with a genuine smile and draped an arm around him as he hugged her back. "Blimey, where have you been? You're all damp and scruffy!" she laughed.

He chanced a good look at her as she fumbled with her keys. She seemed so exhausted and haggard, bereft of the vibrancy that had always marked her as the young, strong one; despite her well-known clumsiness.

Was love really this powerful? Could its loss practically drain the lifeblood from you? Harry mused on that for a moment and decided that it could. If love could repel Voldemort, if it really was the omnipotent force that Dumbledore spoke of, it could heal many things.

Why did Remus fight it? Didn't it mean anything to him that she suffered like this, that leaving Tonks' love unrequited robbed her of her happiness as well as her magical abilities?

As they made their way up the narrow staircase, talking lowly to avoid bothering her neighbors, he watched her trudge up the small flight of stairs with some concern.

But when Nymphadora finally unlocked the door, she gave him a smile, her eyes partly veiled by a fringe of dull hair hanging limply over her forehead. "Come on, kiddo, let's get you some hot tea."

Harry had already polished off a second helping of leftover curry when the teapot finally whistled and Tonks poured him a strong cup of Earl Grey. He smiled his thanks as he oiled the scratched pick and adze of his father's maroon-handled ice axe, not wanting to neglect such a special gift by letting it sit wet and dirty.

"So how is he?" Tonks tried to sound casual, but Harry heard the strained undercurrent in her voice.

"He's….." Harry really didn't know how to answer her. And so he told her about their godfather pact, the fantastic climb and how Remus promised to be open to "…I don't know…to good possibilities."

"Good possibilities?"

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding slowly and wiping at the grit-covered adze. "Well, for a week, at least."

After a long moment, Tonks asked quietly, "Do you think he'll see me?"

_Oh, he'll see you. If I have to box his ears within an inch of his life._

But he just answered simply, "I think he will."

She ran a finger along the edge of her cup, difficult thoughts making her restless as she got up to rummage through her cluttered cabinets for a tin of chocolate biscuits.

"I've missed him….He comes and goes…and everyone gets to see him but me. And when I ask after him, people just say he looks sick and exhausted."

Harry considered that as he picked up one of the crampons to examine the spikes. "Well….he does."

"But that's not the point. No one takes care of him, Harry. He's such a good person. He's one of the reasons we won the war. You'd think, in the least, those who feel close to him would want to help."

"Tonks, you know there are plenty of people who would like to help Remus. They know he doesn't want help."

"But he does, Harry," Tonks insisted as she sat back down and put the open biscuit tin in front of him. "He's just….afraid of it."

It was a strange thing to say and Harry turned that idea over in his head.

"Why do you think that? You think…I dunno…you think he doesn't trust people to help him? After everything he's been through with the war…with the ferals?"

"No, Harry. Remus has played these games for years. They're just getting worse. And it's not that Remus doesn't trust people. He does. In order to trust, you have to be able to love unconditionally."

She picked up a biscuit then put it back down, incapable of eating through such a conversation.

"People who don't trust are afraid to love….and Remus loves deeply. In fact, he loves so deeply that he pushes people away to spare them any hurt or inconvenience loving him back might cause. But he's deluded."

Tonks allowed herself a small, sad smile; and Harry could tell she'd spent a lot of time considering Remus' world.

"He's deluded because when you really love people, you don't mind hurting when you see them hurt. You're just glad to share their pain so they don't have to bear it alone. And Remus can't see the possibility of that."

Harry looked at Tonks, a bit stunned by her insightful words. "You should tell him that."

"You think he hasn't heard all this from me?" She shook her head, eyes closed for a moment.

"I can't keep hanging on by a thread, Harry. Hoping he'll come around, see reason…admit he loves me. I'll always love him, but it's damned hard to offer that up to him and have it shoved back to me over and over again. He thinks if he stays away, if he pretends he doesn't love me, then I'll back down. I'll stop loving him, move on…find someone else and love just as fully again. But it doesn't work that way, Harry, not with me. I know when it's right…and I'm in this 'til death. I'll love him 'til my dying breath… just as strongly on my last day of living as the first day I told him so. But at the same time, I'm through chasing him, through trying to get him to do what his heart wants to do…love me back."

She looked down into her empty cup and turned it at an angle, watched the tea grounds pool on one side.

"Merlin, Tonks…for just seven more days, harass him within an inch of his life."

Tonks had started to tear up but laughed in spite of herself when Harry said that so comically and desperately.

She nodded and gave him a heartfelt smile, studying his face, her eyes drawn to the lightning bolt scar barely evident through his scruffy hair.

"You know, people have talked about you since I was a kid – how special you are because of what happened to you as a baby. And now…what you've managed to accomplish. People will always talk about how special you are, Harry…but you're special for other reasons, too."

She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. "I know we're different as night and day, but you've been a good friend. To Remus and to me, as well."

He bit down on his bottom lip with a smile, slightly embarrassed by her words.

"Same here, Tonks."

She patted his hand then got up to finish putting away her small parcel of groceries, mostly non-edibles and spices. When she had stored the last bit away, she turned and leaned against the cabinet, looking as if she had come to terms with something only after a very long struggle.

"Seven days, you say?"

"Seven he can't fight, at least."

She nodded, almost convulsively, and gripped one hand with the other. "If he does keep running from everything….and everyone…he'll die…won't he."

Harry didn't answer but raised his eyes to meet hers, and she knew he agreed.

Slowly, one emotional molecule at a time, Tonks fell apart; a hand rose to her eyes as her face crumbled and her shoulders racked with sobs.

Harry froze for a moment, a bit stunned. It always took him a moment to figure out what to do when women cried. Hermoine had been the one to tell him once, "Don't just stand there, Harry, hug me!" He stood up and wrapped his arms around Tonks in a great bear hug, and she let out a small laugh.

"Didn't mean to fall apart on you!"

He couldn't think of anything to say in return. Eventually, she sniffed and pulled away from him, looking out her small kitchen window as she shook her head against the path that Remus chose for himself.

"I won't let him waste away and disappear, Harry. I can't."

"Then don't," Harry said softly, looking out the window with her, the noisy streets of London below muted by their seventh story view and the thin veil of glass. And perhaps by the turmoil of their inner world, as well.

Harry walked back to the table and picked up one of the crampons, studied the worn leather and the scraped but solid spikes that his father had worn on countless days, climbing with Remus just like he had so very early that morning. What would his father do?

"Tomorrow morning, Tonks, I'm picking him up at London City Holding, whether he wants me to or not."

Later that night, Harry fidgeted in his bed, weak moonlight falling through his window and lighting his sparse bedroom. He got up and looked out the window and was surprised to see Tonks' owl Rosencrantz making a beeline to him. The owl's wings swished and whooshed in the quiet, heavy air as he landed on the sill and dropped a letter directly into Harry's hands with a satisfied ruffle of feathers.

"Hello, Rose," Harry murmured as he took the letter and ran his hand idly over the owl's tawny plumage.

_Harry, _

_If you decide not to go to LCH, let me know and I will. _

_Tonks_

Harry turned the letter over and wrote:

_Tonks_

_If he's going to be mad at someone right now, I'd rather it be me. I'll go and will owl you when we're back. _

_Harry_

And although he practically had a day's worth of night before he left, Harry got dressed and sat in his chair by the window, idly reading a quidditch playbook and waiting for the giant silver orb above him to ebb and set so that he could bring his godfather home.

_

* * *

_

_tbc_

_Next chapter, Harry visits London City Holding. And it ain't exactly Disneyworld ;) _

_(Sorry guys, the LCH scene got pushed back an installment.) _


	4. Descent

_Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! Hope you enjoy your visit to London City Holding (yes, I'm being bad). LOL. _

* * *

"_Hell isn't merely paved with good intentions, it is walled and roofed with them."_

_Aldous Huxley_

**Chapter 4: "Descent"**

Harry apparated to the darkest section of magical London, hunkering into his robe and starting slightly when a large metal sign cut through the fog and came into view:

**_Unless Licensed by the Ministry,  
_****_no Magic Allowed Beyond This  
Point by Penalty of Law._**

Despite the warning, Harry kept his wand easily accessible, moist grey gravel crunching beneath his feet, all else silent. Bit by sluggish bit, a stark, square five-story building crept out of the haze, larger and more austere than he had imagined. The edifice looked hewn from solid grey rock with no seams or bricks evident, no windows or decoration, its edges blunt and clumsy as if someone had manufactured it from modeling clay then fired it within an inch of cracking.

Harry shuddered in the cold, heavy air and stopped just inside a towering thick stone entry gate gilded on top with silver meshing and barbed wire. Another huge sign loomed above, impossible to miss:

_**London City Holding  
**Check in time: 3:00 pm-7:30 pm only  
Mandatory cell occupancy: 7:30 pm-7:30 am  
Pick-up: 7:30 am-12:00 pm  
Release: 12:00 pm-3:00 pm_

Below it, a dirty two feet of parchment was tacked down, curling and sagging around wet edges with a spell lit message glowing in red ink:

_**Plan Ahead!  
**LCH is not  
a care facility.  
You will receive  
no medical  
treatment._

A third sign leaned so precariously Harry had to tilt his head sideways to read it. It appeared that someone (An occupant? A family member?) had mauled the heavy maple sign in a moment of pure frustration, and LCH had done a piss poor job with repairs:

_**Keep yourself out of Azkaban!  
Know the Laws Concerning your Species  
**Felony Offenses  
- failure to report during full moon phases-  
- removal or alteration of registry numbers-  
- magical/physical assault of an LCH employee-  
-refusing to follow orders given within LCH boundaries-  
- smuggling **any** item past checkpoint-_

Harry digested the implications of such a list of rules as he strode hastily up the wet stairs to the only entrance -- a set of weighty double doors inlaid with two large molten yellow eyes that rippled open and met his with steely focus.

"Your business?" the door stated automatically in a ghostly, severe voice.

"I'm here to pick up a friend."

"Pick-up hours are between 7:30 am and 3:00 pm. You have five minutes to leave the premises."

"It's.." Harry pulled out his pocket watch. 7:29 am. He shifted his weight and in less than a minute, the door blinked and repeated, "Your business?"

"I'm here to pick up a friend." And the doors opened with an intolerable screech, yellow eyes tracing his movement as he passed.

Harry traveled the narrow hallway (too narrow for a full-sized werewolf, he thought) heading towards a glowing portal to the right, a solitary source of light that fell into the hall and glinted off wet rock directly ahead that appeared to be a dead end. A voice in the room murmured something, and a rain of boisterous laughter followed, the mirth echoing off LCH's cold and dismal walls.

Harry winced into the brightness when he arrived at the light source – a wide service window. It opened into a large office space where five guards sat playing magical cards for galleons. Someone had discarded a three-of-hearts card, and it sat on the edge of the table, looking downtrodden.

One guard shot Harry a quick, annoyed look then glanced at the clock, addressing his mates more than the young man.

"A bit early," he said.

"I'm here to pick up someone."

A thickly built guard stood up with a grunt of resignation, not happy to leave the game, and straightened his LCH badge as he looked Harry over and picked up a thick roll of parchment tacked to a clipboard. He dropped it heavily on the counter and fixed Harry with vacuous eyes.

"Number?"

"…Number?"

"Number! The Werewolf Registry number!"

"I don't know his number!" Harry snapped. "His name is Lupin. Remus John Lupin."

The guard gave him a confrontational gaze and flipped his quill to the parchment as he called over his shoulder, "Martin! A kid's 'ere to pick one up and he don't 'ave the number!"

Seconds later, a lightly-built man with a sharp nose and thinning brown hair emerged from the back; and as he moved into the harsh light of the main room, Harry saw a row of claw marks across his neck.

He didn't know the man but could tell the man knew him. Martin pursed his lips in a careful smirk and lowered his head a bit, eyeing Harry from over his gold bifocals.

"Harry Potter…" he said quietly. "Why on earth would you be here?"

"I'm here to pick up a friend."

"Oh, really?" the man said lightly, a simpering wheeze floating out of his throat as he smiled and clasped his hands behind his back.

Harry bit back a very strong urge to tell the man to sod off.

"Remus John Lupin."

"We don't go by names here, Mr. Potter."

"So I hear."

"Yes, everything is done here on a numbers only basis. Now…what does this friend of yours look like?"

Harry looked away briefly in annoyance. "He's quite tall…and thin. He-"

The man cut him off. "That describes half the Lycanthropes in here."

Harry pressed on. "He has dark blonde hair, going a bit grey. Blue eyes….uhm...eye. He wears a patch."

The heavy guard with the clipboard had eavesdropped intently after learning Harry's identity and immediately perked up.

"Aye, Martin! I checked that bloke in. Scars on his face, one right deep? And a gimp arm? Limps sometimes?"

Harry felt his face go hot with an odd resentment, and he nodded.

"We put 'im on the end, so 'es easier to drag out. Cell 283. _Accio_ cell 283 bag," the guard yelled, and a bag came flying from the back room and into his hand. He threw it on the counter and leaned back with his arms crossed, a look of interest on his face as Harry rummaged through the bag to check the contents.

Remus' threadbare clothes and decrepit shoes. His wand. The tattered leather eye patch. A half-eaten bar of low quality chocolate. A few loose sickles.

_What about the ring?_

"There should be a ring in here, on a leather strand. A small gold ring with a purple dyed Howlite stone."

The guard shrugged at him. "Dunno. Heard 'o Howlite, though. Yeah…the stone that protects werewolves from silver burns, aye?"

"It'd be in here. He never took it off."

"He'd take it off in 'ere. Everything comes off 'ere," the guard said aggressively.

"That's right, Bailey," one of the guards seconded, discarding two cards and looking up at Harry as the other two guards grinned confidently.

Harry began to hate this place even more than he thought possible. "He had it on yesterday."

"Well, I guess yer friend lost it," Bailey said flatly, ending the conversation, but over in the corner, still busy at his cards, a young guard that looked vaguely familiar had a knowing smile.

Harry glared at him for a minute and the guard glanced at him furtively then looked away, clearing his throat and focusing intently on his hand.

"Off to cell 283. I'll take 'em, Martin. One foot in the grave, that one." The man touched his badge and immediately rematerialized in the hallway and put a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry pushed it off.

"Follow me, Mr. Potter."

With the flick of his wand, the apparent dead-end dissipated into a long constricted hall, where balls of blue flame nestled into the ceiling every meter or so, throwing dim light along the way and giving Harry an eerie depth of view.

Straight away, the low and cacophonic sounds of people quietly suffering reached Harry's ears and emanated through the suffocating hallway. Desperate moans, low and angry cursing. Someone openly wept.

On either side, cell after cell lay before them, each with flat woven bars so heavily interlaced a human arm could barely reach through the openings.

Suddenly, a pained shriek came from corridor's far end, echoing off the cold stone walls and making Harry's stomach lurch. And then nothing but the low sounds of suffering again, drowned out by the guard's heels clicking loudly on the uneven stone floor.

They passed an open cell where a guard sprayed a large puddle of blood into a hallway drain, lighting his work with a floating orange flame that allowed Harry to see the cell, which had no bed or sink, no furniture of any sort, and a solid wall on either side so occupants couldn't see one another.

He heard the sickly pull of something on the soles of his feet and looked down to see a ragged line of blood tracing their path as if the guards had dragged a body away earlier.

Harry jumped when Bailey's chipper voice boomed.

"Yer mate? We usually have to drag him to recovery then drag him out back at closing time 'cos he don't have the health to leave no more, like he used to when we first opened. Me, I'm always surprised to see 'im still breathin' in the morning…he's the bloke who used to teach over at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Harry answered curtly.

"Yeah, one of our guards, Ian? You'd know 'em. Older than you, but he was a Hufflepuff. 'E was there at the table. You saw him, aye?"

The guard that looked slightly familiar to him. "I did."

"Yeah. Ian said the werewolf was a knock-up teacher."

"He was," Harry answered

"But Ian says he was right selfish, puttin' everyone in danger just 'cos he wanted to teach, see."

Normally, Harry would have tried to formulate an intelligent response, but none of this was normal.

"That's bullshit," he spat, and then managed, "The majority of his former students don't feel that way."

The guard threw a quick look over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. "Well, Ian don't agree. All these blokes, they can't work no more. And that's for the better. That's how Martin almost lost his throat. Workin' a deskjob over in The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, and a werewolf sharing a cubicle with 'em. He didn't even know! We all 'ave 'em here for a reason, Mr. Potter. Keeps everyone safe, see? It 'ain to be cruel."

They continued down the seemingly never ending rows of cells where naked, bleeding humans, just passed the throes of transformation, suffered….inches away from "their equals" but each very much alone in their pain.

Some were sprawled unconscious near the bars, sweat and smears of blood covering their miserable bodies. Others leaned in hopefully as they heard footfalls, anticipating the arrival of people who cared enough to come for them, who would take them away from this place.

Step by step, they got closer to the cell where the earlier scream had come, their footfalls stirring the horribly injured occupant inside.

"I can't," the voice whined then rose. "I can't!….I CAN'T STOP IT! HELP ME!...Don't let me die in here…don't let…don't let me! Call my Dad! Please call my Dad!"

A swift low hand shot out on their right; and a dark and desperate face pressed into the bars, seeking the guard's attention.

"Bailey, call his Dad for him! He won't come 'til 10:00, otherwise! It's Marcus, man!"

"We don't treat and we don't make calls, you know that!" the guard chastised in passing, hand on his wand. "Put your arm back in! Now!" He pushed Harry in front of him and kept walking.

"So you going back to Hogwarts, Mr. Potter, when they reopen it? I never went meself, but my sister did. Sorted into Hufflepuff, just like Ian."

"HELP!"

"Shut up, for fuck's sake!" Bailey screamed as they passed the cell.

Other voices joined the chorus.

"Ain't no one going to help you, mate! Don't give them the satisfaction!"

"Hey! HEY! Call someone for him!"

"Please…please….help me," the voice called out again, weaker and softer as Harry and the guard passed.

"Aren't you going to help him?" Harry screamed, unable to take it any more.

"He'll be fine, Potter. It 'ain as bad as it sounds. He always blathers on, that one."

As they passed another cell with an alert occupant, an arm reached out to snatch the guard's pantsleg. "Just another body to throw out, aye? AYE? You sadist! Call his dad! He's only a kid!"

The guard ignored it all, moving a bit to the left or right as he walked through the gauntlet of curses and grasping hands.

"Bloody animals... stay in the middle. We don't want get swiped through these bars. Some of 'em keep their claws for a bit after retransforming. Here we are! Cell 283."

The guard pulled his wand from his tight waistband with some difficulty, and the cell door ground open noisily and clamped to the wall with a flick of his wrist. Deep in the recess of the cell, Harry could see nothing but blackness since the cells had no light source.

"Oy….Oy!...'Es still out of it. 'Ere ya go." The guard muttered _lumnos_, and weak light from his wand fell into the cell.

Remus lay huddled in the corner shaking, one arm drawn over the side of his face, trying to cover his ear from the unbearable sounds of another morning at LCH. Harry rushed in, already pulling off his robe to throw over Remus' shoulders.

"Careful, Potter," the guard called warily.

Remus didn't even register Harry's hands on his freezing skin as he wrapped the robe around him.

"Remus!"

"Floo is right outside the exit 'ere," he said, pointing to the left. "The rock shed with the chimney. I can't help you move 'im to the floo, you know, Potter. It's the law. You can drag him out, but I'm gonna have to head back down."

"I know!" Harry snapped angrily. "I've signed him out. Just go."

"Alright, so you signed 'em out. You got five minutes….You know the Ministry ain't responsible if anything happens to you down 'ere."

"Yes! Go!"

The guard shook his head and his heavy footfalls trailed down the hall as he slowly walked back to his post. A rain of epithets and curses showered his wake from conscious and angry occupants who realized the boy in the far cell had probably died from his wounds – easily treatable wounds at that -- as was the case with many deaths in LCH.

Harry pulled Remus into the hallway where the faint blue flames lit him well enough to see the extent of his injuries. His upper lip bore a horrendous split that sent blood trickling down his chin and neck. A deep claw swipe ran down his ribs, and the cheek below his good eye was red and swollen as if he had smashed his face on the bars during transformation.

Harry leaned him against the wall and fastened the robe as his godfather finally cut through the fog of unconsciousness and realized he wasn't alone. One lone eye focused on Harry, the other a mass of unseeing white where his iris once glowed blue and vibrant.

"Told you…told you not….to come," he slurred weakly, anger evident in his quiet voice.

"I know," Harry whispered gently. And Remus' eyes closed once again, brief consciousness giving way to exhaustion.

Harry steadied Remus against the wall and quickly went back to the young man's cell, stretching his arm in to the shoulder, his fingers barely grazing a slippery wrist. Finally, he managed to find purchase and leaned back, pulling the boy to him.

Death had caught Marcus by surprise, a look of shock on his motionless, blood-splattered face; and Harry recognized him as a Ravenclaw from his year -- bitten by Greyback's pack in the final stages of war.

"Marcus?" he said softly and touched the young man's neck, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. Harry put his hand over the boy's chest and squinted his eyes shut, attempting a wandless revive spell. But officials had warded LCH to the teeth. Magic wouldn't emanate.

Harry dropped his head in anger and squeezed the boy's hand. He pictured the teenager's father arriving in a few hours only to be told his son had died. Would they even give him the body?

"Is he….is he dead? Is Marcus dead?" someone called tentatively through the bars. Harry could barely get the word from his mouth.

"Yes," he said shakily.

After a long and heavy silence, the man shrieked, "Someone's gonna pay when I get outta here! THEY'RE GONNA PAY!"

Hot tears went down Harry's face as the man continued to scream in fury; and he turned to find Remus awkwardly slumped on the floor, coughing desperately as blood from his split lip trickled into his throat. Harry returned and pulled Remus to him, rested his cheek on the top of his head. Just yesterday, Remus had said , "You have no idea what my life has been like." And Harry had presumed otherwise.

Everything was wrong. It was all so wrong.

Suddenly, two molten eyes opened on the ceiling. "You have three minutes to vacate the premises."

"We're going!" Harry screamed up at the yellow orbs. "And we won't be back." As he quickly laced his arms under Remus' and began to drag him towards the exit, he added, "And you know what? None of these other people will be coming back, either. Because we're going to end this!"

Back in the brightly lit office, four guards sat at their cards, looking at Harry's angry face in stereo via a warped, black and white magical feed from the two eyes.

And they laughed. For now...

* * *

_**tbc**_


	5. Day 1

**Chapter 4 – "Wise Investments"**

_Warm…_

Remus came to slowly, consciousness seeping back one thread at a time until he opened his eyes just a slit and was surprised by something he hadn't experienced in months – stereo vision. His left eye struggled to focus on several unframed quidditch posters that covered the white walls, their occupants whizzing and diving within the confines of tacked down paper.

_Harry's spare bedroom_.

Remus shut his eyes once again and swallowed hard.

_Harry…why'd you go?_

His nostrils flared. He could smell Nymphadora's scent on his body, along his cheek, in his hair. And Pomfrey had been there, too. He felt the familiar buzz that follows healing spells and pulled the covers down to see two gashes below his ribs practically mended and one along his mangled arm that he could barely register save for the warm tingle of therapy salve still at work.

Remus struggled to sit up and immediately saw, laid out in the chair, a new oxford shirt with creases from the store fold still evident alongside a pair of soft blue jeans and maroon boxer shorts with a tidy paper label.

He spent a moody moment looking for his paper check-in bag from LCH before he realized Harry knew him well enough to not leave the old clothes within wearing distance.

And so he carefully shrugged on the new clothes, murmuring a spell to fasten the buttons and flies. He'd learned all sorts of useful spells since losing the use of his arm.

As he stood up, though, the shirt pulled lightly against his chest, and he felt something hard in the pocket. He reached in to find a small polished howlite stone.

_The ring…where's the ring? _

He gazed intently at the new talisman then limped into the kitchen to find Harry perusing a thick book, a large stack of others before him. Harry looked up quickly and beamed.

"You're awake!"

"Almost," Remus said with a small grin.

"Poppy was here. She gave you something to rest."

"Like I need help with that after transformations these days," he said with a hint of dark humor.

"I think she meant decent rest. She gave you a double helping of healing sleep draught."

"What time is it?"

"11:30 am"

Remus sat down carefully. "Well, I didn't sleep that long."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "11:30 am…on Tuesday."

"Tuesday!" Remus laughed weakly then coughed. "Well, then, a few hours and an entire day."

Harry looked at him carefully. He did look much better. "You needed it. Decent rest in a bed, not lying on a cell floor or outside LCH when it closes down and they throw you outside."

He could feel himself getting angry when Remus hit with some of his own.

"I told you not to come to Holding."

Harry shot back quickly, "You promised me seven days, and it wasn't fair for you to expect them to start after the moon."

"I wasn't thinking about having to recover alone, Harry. I was thinking about you having to see that place. No one should see it."

Harry practically slammed his book.

"Everyone should see it! Everyone, Remus! People are dying in there! And that's why they should see it, to know what's happening. I mean, everyone just thinks werewolves are sitting in these little hotel rooms, transforming and then walking out."

Remus nodded, knowing that was true. "Nevertheless, the facts won't change public opinion."

"It has to stop, Remus. And soon. I've talked to Tonks and some of the other Order members. We're going to get a coalition together."

Remus looked at Harry carefully, as if he wasn't sure he should share his thoughts.

"I have something that I've been thinking about, Harry. I figured…this would be the week to work on it. And I had a lot of time to think about it in Holding after check-in. I'd like to request a forum with the Ministry. But I need to talk to some people first, people who carry some weight…authorities in their fields. They're not going to listen to a destitute old werewolf."

"Remus…" Harry began as he got up to get him a cup of tea. "You have more clout in the community than you think you do. And Moody told me that you were granted a waiver from LCH, but you refused it."

Remus didn't answer and gratefully took the steaming cup that Harry offered him as the young man sat down next to him, studying the mend in his lip and the bare hint of an iris emerging in his eye after Pomfrey's work.

"What are you….can you tell me what you're considering?"

Remus shifted in the seat with a wince and took a large swallow of tea.

"I don't know if anything will come of it. Everything might fall through and quite early at that. Can…can I tell you later, Harry? If it works out?"

"Sure," Harry said, nodding as he realized Remus kept his idea secret so that if it failed, no one would have to suffer the disappointment but himself. Once again, Remus failed to realize that a shared burden weighs half as much. And that Harry was more than willing to take on half.

"You could tell me, you know," he chided. "Then we could commiserate together if it fell through, go out and get drunk together."

The words got the result Harry wanted – a large grin and laugh from his tired friend.

And the laughter reminded Harry of how nice it was to have him here. And how tenuous his new godfather's life was in post-war England. Remus survived by the barest of threads. And Harry wanted to do whatever it took to mend that tether and make it stronger.

"What you're thinking of…would it dismantle London City Holding?"

Remus nodded. "For the most part."

"Could it be in effect before the next full moon?"

Remus raised his eyebrows briefly, seeing that as a daunting task. "That would take a miracle."

"You can't go back there," he blurted.

But Remus immediately shot back in a gentle but firm voice, "No, Harry, until they're all free, I go."

"Remus..you can't….you can't survive in there much longer. I saw…I saw people die. If you'd been alone…you could have choked to death on your own blood, just because someone wasn't there to prop you up. Something that pointless. As far as I'm concerned, if they do that to people, if they won't help, won't treat the injured…that's murder."

"I have to go, Harry. It's the principal of the matter…."

But Harry was desperate to make his point. "Marcus…you remember Marcus Hale? He was a student of yours. He died in there last night."

Remus dropped his head, his hand slowly balling into a fist, scraping at the tablecloth as it went. He was shaking.

"And others did, too. How many needless deaths happen there every month? You won't make it through another moon in there! I really feel that."

"Marcus…" he croaked, his voice barely a whisper. Remus wiped a heavy hand across his face and gazed out the kitchen window.

"Harry…..please know that I'm going to try and change things. And I promise to let you know if it looks hopeful. Whether it will ameliorate these injustices, I don't know…..but…for now…for now, can we talk about something else? Please? I can't..."

Harry suddenly realized the conversation was wearing dangerously heavy on Remus; and he nodded quickly, taking Remus' tea cup to top it off.

"Where are my clothes, my things from LCH?"

Harry froze, his back to Remus as he poured tea from the stove.

"I threw them away."

"You threw them away."

"Yes."

"I see….and that was your place?"

Harry rubbed awkwardly at his nose as he sat back down at the table. "Yeah."

Remus instantly felt guilty for making Harry feel like he had done a bad thing.

"It's alright, Harry. The clothes I don't care about, but…Nymphadora's ring…was there a small gold ring in the bag?"

"….No."

Remus glanced away from Harry before he said quietly, "Are you quite certain?"

"I'm sure. I mentioned it to the guards when I came to pick you up. I'd noticed you had it on yesterday."

Remus dropped his head, knowing exactly what had happened.

"The guards…we're not their equals, so they have no problem justifying theft. Seeing that we're such a menace to society, we don't deserve things of value…I usually take it off before I go, but with the climb…I should have left it with you."

It wasn't like Remus to be attached to possessions. He'd lived in a world where he could rarely afford to do so, even as a child; but the loss of the ring hurt him, and Harry could see it in his eyes.

"That was Nymphadora's ring," he repeated.

"She gave it to you?" Harry asked.

"No….No, I melted down my Hogwarts class ring and used some alchemy spells to make it…carved a howlite stone into a cabochon and dyed it purple…her favorite color….Dumbledore actually set the stone for me. He loves….loved jeweler's magic. He did a beautiful job."

Harry had thought the ring pretty but had no idea that Remus had made it himself.

"It was a really unique ring..really beautiful. I noticed you wearing it before. And you had it on when…when you came to Grimmauld after killing Greyback. It was….you were all covered in blood, but it didn't stick to the ring. I knew it was magic of some sort."

Remus' brows knotted. "No, just a ring. It wasn't magic."

Harry nodded, but his brows creased for a moment, as well -- a very vivid image in his mind of Remus' entire torso caked in blood and the pristine ring shining on his chest, hanging from a clotted and filthy leather strand.

"So she gave it back to you when you guys broke up?"

Remus shook his head. "I never gave it to her. I made it for her birthday, then Dumbledore asked me to go live with the ferals. I didn't get to see her for quite some time. And then, with all my assignments…I came to my senses…"

In his desperation to change to subject, he missed Harry's exasperated look at the ceiling.

"What are all these books?"

"Class reading for seventh years. I just picked them up at Fluorish and Blotts this morning."

"When you bought these clothes? What do I owe you for them?"

Harry smiled, unsure of whether to tell him. "Actually, Tonks bought them. There are more in the closet. And….she's coming by after work tonight. She wants to see you."

Harry and Remus locked eyes across the table, studying each other carefully; and Remus suddenly realized he was in for a very controlling seven days. How had Tonks ended up being part of the bargain?

"I knew she was here, Harry. I could still smell her scent in the room when I woke up. She must have stayed a while."

Harry turned slightly red and swallowed. Remus had to smile at the young man's embarrassment. "What's wrong?"

"Well, that's…I never thought of…things like…I dunno."

"Never realized that being a werewolf makes me different?"

"Well…not like that, no."

Remus nodded. "I can distinguish scents. I can smell when people are afraid of me. When they're angry or happy. And when people are…aroused."

"So is…." Harry trailed off, tapping his foot irregularly under the table. It wasn't any of his business.

Remus smiled broadly. "What? You can ask me anything, Harry. I know I can be painfully secretive and annoyingly pragmatic about some things, but I'm always willing to educate people about Lycanthropy. I just usually don't do it unless I'm asked."

Harry laughed. "So is…uhm…is sex the same for you as…as everyone else?"

Remus rubbed at his temple, taking the question seriously.

"I would say so..maybe a bit more intense in some ways. My libido seems to be controlled by the moon, but I've never had an ongoing sex life, so I'm not sure what being in a regular relationship would do for it. Maybe it would even out and not grow or wane with the moon cycles. Before the full moon, it's unbearably high. Especially for someone who….hasn't been in love many times."

Harry smiled in spite of himself. "I knew about that last part. Tonks said she'd love to be locked in a room with you for every week before the full moon for the rest of her life."

It was Remus' turn to blush, and Harry laughed out loud and leaned back in his chair.

"I thought it was sweet."

"You know, you two spend way too much time together discussing me."

Harry shrugged, still laughing. "I like Tonks a lot. She's a good friend. We're very different people, but…we have you in common. And we both worry about you. You have to realize, she's needed to talk to someone."

Remus nodded slightly, lost in musing for a moment. "Charlie Weasley is home right now. She hasn't spent any time with him? They're about the same age."

"No, Remus," Harry said, giving him a wary eye.

"And Moody's nephew just started auror training. He's actually quite good looking. Isn't she mentoring him?"

Harry scoffed. "She's not interested in Moody's nephew. And she thinks Charlie is a total wanker! Merlin, Remus, stop trying to find a substitute."

"I care for her, Harry. You know I do. I just don't want to confuse her by showing up when she's trying to get on with her life. I want her to make the right decisions."

"I think she's already made the right decision. And I can promise you that she's not dating. Or sleeping or eating, for that matter. She's waiting for you. She's not looking for someone else, she's waiting for you. Did that sink in?"

Remus laughed and reached up to touch his mending lip when his smile pulled at it. "What day is this in the grand scheme of my blanket acquiescence?"

"Day one, Remus."

"Day one, Remus," he repeated. "Day one today since I slept through day two, I take it?"

"Absolutely."

Remus smiled. "Well, I meant to mention this earlier, but something smells sinfully good."

Harry's eyes went wide. He had totally forgotten. "Chicken mushroom lasagna in alfredo sauce. And garlic bread! It's still in the warmer." Harry spelled the table to set as he jumped up and pulled a large pan from the oven and cut squares for both of them, giving Remus an obscenely large portion.

Remus handled his fork delicately as he looked at the giant melting square before him and the large chunk of bread, dripping with butter and herbs. He'd had little to no appetite lately, but the steaming meal had him starving. He took a large bite and immediately dove in for a second.

"Harry, this is amazing."

"And it has 870 calories per serving, 400 from fat!" Harry said, way too happy with the fat content.

Remus puffed out a laugh through a mouthful, almost choking as he finally got the bite down. "Did Molly tell you to make this?"

"Yeah," Harry admitted with a smile. They ate in silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the meal while Remus thought fondly of Molly and everything the small, redheaded woman had done for him.

He began quietly, "I always wondered how that entire family managed to stay so trim. Then George slipped in one day and found her making a triple layer cheesecake. He said, 'You'd think Remus was here!' Then he turned around…and there I was at the table."

Harry laughed. "We're expected there for dinner tomorrow, you know."

Remus nodded.

"But what about today? What do you want to do?" Harry asked.

Remus rolled a noodle around his fork in thought.

"I should go pay my respects to Marcus' father….He came to talk to me after his son's attack. He…uhm…he was one of the parents who wrote a letter to Hogwarts demanding my resignation."

Remus put down his fork and looked up at Harry thoughtfully.

"I had already resigned, of course…he didn't need to tell me. Nor did he owe me the apology he gave. He said there were many things he hadn't understood at the time, but after one calls a werewolf 'son' or 'father' or 'friend,' those things become understandable. He was very kind. And Marcus was a wonderful student and a good person.….I'd like to pay my respects."

Harry thought of all the fun and interesting…and _bearable_ things he'd rather do today. But none of them were an option. Fighting LCH had to begin with every person caring. And Harry cared, not just because of Remus.

"Would it be okay if I went with you?"

Remus looked surprised. "You can come, if you want."

"Well….no one wants to do things like that…but I think maybe I should. It's the right thing to do."

Remus gave him a poignant smile, and something around his eyes hinted of pride. "You've grown up to be such a good person, Harry. Sometimes I wonder…I wonder how it happened….your aunt and uncle being the people they are…the way they treated you.

"Maybe I'm just a product of good genes," Harry laughed and then gauged Remus for a minute. "Like you…I'll bet you had good parents."

Remus nodded sadly. "That I did."

After a quiet moment, Harry leaned forward and nudged his shoulder. "And now I have a great godfather."

At that, Remus looked at him with a slight desperation that Harry didn't expect.

"I do want to be."

But there was doubt in his voice, as if being there for Harry was just another thing he couldn't have. And Harry sat stunned for a moment before he managed gently, "But you have to survive……and to do that, you have to stop running."

Remus could only look at him, his face unreadable as he nodded briefly for Harry's sake then looked toward the door, his foot suddenly busy beneath the table.

**tbc**

_Author's Note: Don't give up on him, guys! It's been a hard life._

_This story may ramble a bit, but I see it as having political, romantic, and emotional aspects all at once; and sometimes one will take precedent over another for the sake of narrative. _

_Plus, I really felt like after what had transpired at London City Holding, Remus and Harry needed a quiet moment together to just interact. Tonks will pretty much own the next chapter, and there may be anger and thrown china. (big grin) Rest assured that there will be closure in every way by the end, though._

_Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! Your feedback is greatly appreciated. Like I've said before, I write for you guys more than myself. As long as people are reading and enjoying it, I'll keep writing. _


	6. Day 2

_When you are old and grey and full of sleep,  
__And nodding by the fire, take down these memories,  
__And slowly read, and dream of the soft look  
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;_

_How many loved your moments of glad grace,  
And loved your beauty with love false or true,  
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,  
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;_

_And bending down beside the glowing bars,  
Murmured, a little sadly, how Love fled  
And paced upon the mountains overhead  
And hid his face amid a crown of stars._

_William Butler Yeats, 1892_

**

* * *

****"Day 2"**

Remus Lupin slept like the dead.

He always had, and so it was with some degree of surprise that he woke at twilight to find Nymphadora curled around him, her hand resting on his chest, her breath slow and warm across his Adam's apple.

He craned his neck back to look at her, sleeping peacefully and heavily, and felt a pang of heavy guilt. Even in the sluggish hint of morning light, she looked exhausted; and he could already imagine the scenario. She probably came over after work only to find him pathetically asleep at such an early hour. They hadn't had the chance to talk. And she was knackered, anyway. And the bed looked so good…

When he brushed carefully at her mousy brown hair, she stirred and, realizing her situation, gave him an embarrassed smile before hiding her face in the pillow.

"Sorry," came a muffled sigh as she turned to face him again, slight mischief playing across her young face.

"I came over after work and you were already asleep. And I sat down…I was so tired. And you were always my favorite place to nap."

"I'm a napping place?" he teased in a husky whisper, raising his eyebrows.

"Among other things, Remus Lupin," she whispered back.

"…..Harry said you hadn't been sleeping well."

Suddenly, Remus realized he didn't want to deal with the semantics of everything that had happened between them. Not now. Not when it felt so lovely to have Tonks here with him, her soft skin against his scarred flesh, both of them half asleep and having no need for words or grudges or walls long since built coming into view.

He just wanted her close, like this, for the ephemeral, remaining moments of nightfall. Remus knew the moon rose swiftly when one clinged desperately to time. And set slowly when one begged it to fade away.

"It's still quite early," he said softly as he brushed fingertips across her cheek then brought the hand down her arm in soothing, light strokes.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered.

And she smiled, her eyes already heavy-lidded as she cuddled into him, one hand coming under his shirt and curling around his back.

Remus shivered. Did she have any idea how badly he wanted her hand there? That he had spent nights with the pack mourning the loss of her soft hand on his back, pulling him close in sleep like she always had.

"Thanks for letting me stay," she whispered, almost lost to slumber.

And the simple words stabbed at his heart. How could he not want her here? But that's what he had done. What he had told her time and time again. And now, having what he wanted most at this very moment, she thanked him for allowing it.

He was such a fool.

But it was early. And in waking moments, people sometimes find clarity that disappears when the mind wholly returns.

The werewolf blinked sleepily, his face close to hers as he basked in the warmth she gave. And soon he fell asleep, as well.

In the morning, Tonks woke to find a note on the nightstand in Remus' controlled, beautiful script stating that he had gone to Diagon to buy a bottle of wine for their evening visit to the Weasley's.

She shuffled into the kitchen for a glass of water and found a quickly scrawled note from Harry that said, "Gone to The Burrow to seeGinny and play quidditch. See you there!"

Tonks showered, wand-cleaned her clothes, and owled for her work messages. She sat alone in Sirius' old chair, looked at a photo album Harry had put together after his third year at Hogwarts, answered an owl from an old friend who had recently moved nearby. She read all of Harry's quidditch magazines, fiddled with his Muggle fellytone, then sat down once again, waiting for Remus to return.

She knew him too well -- the slow and easy ways in which he separated himself. He'd show up just in time to leave, so that he wouldn't break his promise to Harry or the Weasley's…but he couldn't bring himself to spend the day with her. And when she'd ask him where he'd gone, he'd have a polite but vague answer waiting.

Just a few minutes before five, he arrived, looking tired and harried with a brown bagged bottle of wine in his hand, the paper worn flat and wrapped around the bottle from being carried all day.

Tonks crossed her arms and looked at him, her voice soft. "Wotcher, Remus. Where've you been today?"

"Oh…." he said with a long sigh, looking about the flat hurriedly. "I had to talk to some people, about some things. But I'm ready."

Tonks just smiled, taking some small victory in knowing him well enough to predict his behavior. It made her feel more sure about some of the other things she felt she knew about him. Like the fact that he still loved her.

Ron, Ginny, and Harry whizzed around The Burrow, heavy into a quidditch practice as Remus and Tonks approached the sprawling, cozy home. Harry flew low with a wave and they both smiled and waved back.

Remus' face was bright and amused as he watched Harry pull out of a vertical stall and head back toward Ron and Ginny.

"I think he's ready for the pros, if he wants to sign on."

Tonks readily agreed.

And when the two walked into the warm kitchen, Molly practically shrieked in joy to see them arriving together, hugging them both tightly around the neck.

But when Tonks and Bill immediately began to talk about a recent Mad Eye Moody escapade at an illegal potion dealers round-up ("I've never _seen_ so many ferrets!"), Remus wandered slowly through the cozy house, hoping to absorb some of the happiness and contentment he always felt emanating from the clutter and love that surrounded the place.

He studied the Weasley family clock, all hands on "home" (save Percy, who had died in the war) and felt pleased to find that Molly had added Harry and Tonks to the brood. But his heart jumped in shock to see a hand of his own, teetering between "home" and "in grave peril." Remus cleared his throat and furtively moved away from the clock.

But Arthur had come up behind him.

"You've been there since you joined Fenrir's pack, you know. No matter where you are, your hand stays somewhat at that spot. It's wearing Molly to a frazzle."

Remus nodded and felt like he should apologize but didn't know quite how to word it. "I don't want to worry people."

Arthur tried to stifle an incredulous laugh and failed as he put a hand on Remus' shoulder and said gently, "Remus, I think you've written the book on worrying people who love you this year." Then he quickly added, "You're family, though, and there's nothing wrong with worrying about family."

Remus was saved from having to respond by Molly's dinner bell and a yell of "Dinner is ready!"

As they made their way back to the kitchen, Arthur said lowly, "Harry tells me you have something in the works, a forum with the Ministry regarding the current werewolf statutes?"

Remus didn't feel assured enough about it all to even nod in affirmation.

"Oh, it's a bit of something. Sad to say, I think I'm the only voice the Lycanthropes have at the moment, but I doubt it will be enough."

"You know that if there's anything I can do…."

"Thank you, Arthur. Truly."

Now in the midst of company, Remus fell silent; but as they sat down at the crowded table, Arthur caught Remus' eye once more and said, amidst the noisy kitchen bustle, "Anything at all, Remus. Let me know."

And Remus gave him a grave nod then smiled as Fred handed him a butterbeer.

Later, they sat outside on comfortable wooden chairs brought out to view the quidditch game in progress. Tonks sat across from Remus, talking about the London auror force's interest in requesting a takeover of London City Holding.

Tonks knew they were avoiding the inevitable by discussing something else, but it was hardly small talk.

"LCH would no longer be under Ministry jurisdiction, and the rules could easily change under code 487, which states that the transfer of responsibility can be accompanied by a new legislation."

Remus shook his head. "It won't work. Umbridge won't relinquish control. And the Ministry won't overturn her."

"So what have you been thinking of?"

Suddenly, Bill walked quickly towards them from the barn with little Maya tucked under his arm.

"Fleur!" he yelled to his wife, who stood by the back door talking in her loud, sing-song voice to an irritated plant as she watered it. The plant pulled at its own roots, trying to get away from her. Obviously, the water wasn't worth the company. "Call my Dad! The flying car is trying to get out of the barn again!"

When Bill reached Remus, he plunked the baby into the werewolf's arms and wiped at his sweaty brow.

"Remus, watch the rug rat for me? I'll be right back." He turned immediately and began running back to the barn.

"Uhm….there's just one arm working here, Bill!" he called after the young man.

"You'll be fine! She loves you, Remus!" Bill yelled, jogging backwards for a moment with a smile.

Remus looked down at the baby in his arms, a confused look on his face.

"I haven't seen her since she was two days old," he murmured.

But sure enough, the baby was already standing in his lap on wobbly legs and gave him a toothless beaming grin. Her chubby little hand waved erratically before plopping down on his nose.

"BA!" she squealed. Before he could stop himself, Remus laughed heartily and wrapped the baby in his good arm to sit her back down, leaning his head to the side and smiling at her broadly.

"Look at you!" he chirped.

Although neither would admit it, Tonks and Remus both had an immediate flashback to an early morning conversation they had shared in the Grimmauld kitchen, relishing a moment together before everyone else woke up.

Despite the fact that they had never made love; had, from a physical standpoint, only shared a few passionate kisses in an empty hallway one night, there were so many things that had become clear between them. That they were meant for each other, that they would always be in each other's lives.

Odd that in the midst of war, things had felt so much simpler then….

They talked about places to go after the war, where they might live; and Remus mentioned his parents' home outside of London as a possible place to settle. Remus' family of three had rented a modest home in his youth, but his parents had finally managed to build a small place of their own in later years.

8 8 8 8 8

"It's nice, but there's no spare bedroom," Tonks said casually then mentally started when she realized what the words suggested. But she had said them without thinking and there they were.

"A second bedroom?" Remus sipped his tea, tracing his eyes. "Guests could sleep on the couch pull-out. At least that's where I slept when I came to visit."

Tonks burst out in nervous laughter, realizing that he hadn't caught the implication. But instead of letting it go, she specified, "No, Remus…a second room….for kids."

Remus' eyes went wide before a quick flush spread across his face. It was something he had never even considered. Women rarely gave him the time of day, let alone considered sleeping with him….let alone considered having children with him….

Every day, he was more and more amazed by this woman – her strength, her outspokenness, the way she made him feel so alive and so…so normal.

But they weren't normal, were they?

"A child?……You mean…you and me?"

"And baby makes three," she finished, smirking at him over her cup, enjoying his shock even more by the minute.

When Remus recovered from the idea of fathering a child, he mentally shuffled a bit. "Well….there's a 25 percent chance he'd have Lycanthropy, and a 15 percent chance he'd be a metamorphagus…"

Tonks was quiet for a moment, caught in his concerned gaze before she answered, "You think it would be selfish to have children?"

"Perhaps…. I mean, you had a very difficult time as a child, coming to terms with your gift. It's served you well as an auror; but, unfortunately, there's a certain amount of suspicion surrounding people with your ability."

He shook his head, looking uncomfortable. "And that's nothing compared to the issues with Lycanthropy. There's no positive spin on it. We'd be dooming him or her to a very difficult childhood…and a difficult adulthood, as well.

Tonks understood, but she also saw different side to it, a brighter side.

"Life can be hard, Remus. People are all dealt blows in one way or another. And we would always understand what he's going through, could help him through the difficult times. We could offer him all the support he'd need to live a happy life."

"That's true…." Remus said quietly.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Tonks. "Do you like children?"

At that, Remus perked up, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

"Haven't you heard? Werewolves love children….with sauce…and new potatoes."

"Remus!" She batted at him from across the table. "Wotcher, that's so not funny."

"Yes it is," he said, grinning behind his teacup then spilling it when she reached over to pop him again.

When he put the cup down and wiped at his chin, he looked serious again. "I do love kids, Tonks. And…." If possible, his face got even redder. "And I'm….I would….I can't imagine anything more wonderful than having children with you…..but in all honesty, I think something is getting ready to happen. The new Ministry laws and statues are more and more frightening, more controlling. Umbridge has a lot of power and….I don't know what kind of life will exist for children just entering a new world these days. Maybe it would be best to wait and see. See what we're up against."

Tonks understood. "Things will get better after the war. You'll see. And when they do, we can think about it then….But first things first, I have to rid you of your gentlemanly tendencies."

"Gentlemanly tendencies?" he asked, the innocence on his face more attractive than she could bear. He really didn't know what she meant, did he. But the expression on her face at that moment told him enough, and he felt his body immediately respond to the fire he saw in her eyes.

Remus leaned forward to kiss the auror, her eyes already shut in anticipation when the Weasley twins burst through the door. Tonks nearly jumped out of her chair.

Remus laughed then smiled broadly as he pretended to study her face.

"What is that, Tonks, a wart?" he queried and she kicked him from underneath the table with her heavy army boots.

"Fancy that! A witch with a wart!" George quipped as he ruffled Tonks' purple hair on his way to the fridge.

The kitchen was soon flooded with groggy Grimmauld occupants clamoring for tea and coffee and chatting sleepily amongst themselvesamid yawns and stretches. But Remus and Tonks couldn't take their eyes off each other.

Suddenly, he whispered, "I have a record I want to play for you the first time we make love."

And Tonks felt herself practically puddle from the inside out, her fingers desperate to feel his warmth, her body tightly wound and wanting his touch. She studied the sleepy occupants around her then looked back at her man, his mouth slightly open as he breathed, the same yearning evident in his beautiful eyes.

"Would you play it for me now?"

They had never left the kitchen so fast. Nearly twenty minutes passed before Molly looked about the kitchen absently and asked, "Has anyone seen Remus and Nymphadora?"

8 8 8 8 8

And now they sat in the Weasley backyard, Remus with the sleeping baby in his lap as the bright, serene sun set and a low, furtive moon took hold of the sky. Suddenly, the car flew by again, Fred, George, and Charlie wrangling it from their brooms and teaching it tricks. Tonks recognized, with a doubt, "play dead" and "roll over" but never thought she'd see a flying car do such things.

Arthur walked by with a huge grin on his face. "It comes when it's called now, mates! That Charlie can tame anything!"

They both laughed and turned to look at each other, their smiles lingering then falling away slowly as they studied each other for a long moment. Remus cleared his throat before looking down at the baby then back up at the sky.

She touched his arm lightly and trailed her fingers down his pale skin, dipping over the undulations of the heavy scars.

"Can you feel that?"

He didn't look at her. "A bit…but not much."

She took the hand in her lap and wrapped her fingers into his hand, grasping, but his fingers remained open, unable to clasp around hers. And after a moment, she curled his fingers around hers and held them there as they sat in the porch chairs, watching the sun give way to the waxing moon.

Soon, they said their goodbyes. And walking down the busy streets of London, Remus was surprised to find Tonks following him up the stairs to Harry's flat, but he didn't say a word.

As soon as the door shut, she gave him a look of gentle anticipation.

"Harry's staying at The Burrow tonight."

She fingered a button on his shirt with one hand as she reached up to kiss him, her lips lingering on his, palms moving flat across his chest as she relished the warmth beneath his shirt.

"Tonks….," he managed between the kisses then took both her hands in one of his, pushing her away as he backed up toward the table.

She looked enormously hurt…and a little bit dangerous, something tumultuous welling just below the surface. When he pulled out a chair and sat down heavily, looking away from her, she walked over by the counter to fall within his range of vision.

Remus looked up briefly and Tonks saw in his eyes how deeply he loved her, the message more direct than words and more heartfelt. His eyes were the reason why the words he spoke felt so hollow…and so wrong.

"What was today, Remus?"

"Today was for Harry. And Molly."

"For Harry and Molly. But not for you?"

He didn't answer.

"Remus, I want you to tell me what you're thinking."

"…..You should go home."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Remus looked up, his jaw set.

"Tonks….go home."

She gauged him quietly for a moment, both of them locked in a gaze that held so much fire, so much despair.

"Do you love me?"

"Tonks…you know I do."

"Do you think of me every day?"

"…Yes."

"But you push me away….Why?"

"You know why."

At that, her voice came out louder than she had planned. "I want all the reasons, Remus! I want to hear them now! You-"

"We've been over this before!" he interjected.

"And we'll do it again. Tell me, Lupin. I want to hear you say them one last time."

"I could sit here all day, Tonks, going over this…..You know it can all be summarized with the fact that you deserve better than me."

"I don't deserve what I want most?"

"You're young. You don't know what's best for you."

Tonks' hand immediately went to a plate on the kitchen counter and threw it to the ground with a resounding shatter.

Remus jumped, his eyes wide as he looked down carefully at the table, scratched his head then looked toward the door and back at her briefly.

"Sirius' family china, Tonks."

"Bugger the china, Remus. I'm a grown woman. I know what's best for me. What's best for me is what makes me happy. And you make me happy."

"Tonks….you'll meet someone else. Someone young and normal."

Tonks breathed in deeply and threw her hands to her face in consternation; but when she finally dropped them, Remus could see the frustration deeply set in her eyes.

"I'm not deluded, Remus. I'm _not_….and if you weren't so deluded yourself, you could see that….that this is all just a pointless game of perception."

After a moment of silence between the two of them, she calmed down a bit.

"When you think of yourself..and who you are…you see a worn out, decrepit, poverty-stricken half of a man; a monster who can't shake off the vestiges of his darkness long enough to be normal for anything or anyone."

"And I see…." She gave him a wistful smile. "Do you want to know what I see?"

Tonks sat down by him, brushed back his hair, her thumb gently touching the skin around his nearly sightless eye.

"I see everything remarkable about you: your beauty, your bravery, your intelligence and your kindness. I see how you do so much for everyone then disappear, marginalize yourself. I see how much people value you as a compatriot and a friend, even when you don't. I see a wizard of staggering power, who has always hid how powerful he is. You don't need the wand, Remus. For anything. Do you?"

He looked away from her.

"I see _you_. And that means I see the bad things, too. I see a man who thinks the war was his final hurrah to purpose and now it's time to lay down and die. I see a man who's letting a bad pattern in his life consume him when it doesn't have to. When everything you have to offer is still here to give. I see a man with the most lovely soul feeling trapped by a small portion of his body chemistry. It's a stain you think colors everything you are and do. Your greatest flaw, Remus Lupin, is not your Lycanthropy. It's that you let your Lycanthropy control you. Not in a primal way…in an intellectual way. You're powerful, Remus. And your Lycanthropy is a weak adversary. But you give it reign anyway when fighting it, when putting it in its proper place, would take so little."

She leaned her head against his, and he didn't pull away.

"But mostly, I see the only man I'll ever give my heart to. And I see him shoving it away. And if you do, I'll never love again. And don't you dare doubt me on that, Remus. Don't you presume to think otherwise."

Remus pulled away to look at her, the shake in his bare whisper of a voice belying the control his face tried to maintain.

"Do you want to know what I see, Tonks?"

He stopped to wipe away tears that had started to form in her eyes, and he scooted his chair back a bit.

"I see a man who can't marry you legally, who isn't allowed to give you children legally, who can't meet with you in government venues, because I'm not allowed in the buildings. I see a man who could be arrested for making love to you without contraceptive spells. I see a man who could cause you to lose your job as an auror in certain circles, a man who could damage your career. I see these things because I love you…… I love you enough to let you go."

But the minute he finished, she moved forward and kissed him, deeply and passionately,

And he responded, moving forward in the chair closer to her, then hesitating, breathing hard.

"Tonks…I…," He sighed and pulled away, shoulders slumped as he looked up at the ceiling, trying to curtail the physical desire welling up within him, trying to purge all the love he felt for her.

"I know all those things, Remus, and they don't play a part in my love for you. I'm not weak. I'm willing to fight for the things I believe in. And I believe in you."

God but he wanted her to stay. But, in the end, it wouldn't be the easy thing for either of them. Her staying would create a fleeting moment that they both desperately wanted; and in the wake of it, she would suffer even more. And he would, as well.

Tonks cut into the heavy tension between them, her fingers running through his hair before she went to her knees in defeat and finally dropped her head in his lap, her cheek resting against the warm fabric, arms wrapped around his calves.

He was running again. She had said everything there was to say. After this, there would be no more arguing, no more fighting it; but that didn't mean she would leave.

The auror raised her head with a sigh and sniffed away her tears.

"I'm staying, Remus, if only as a friend who cares about you. I'm not leaving tonight."

He nodded, a small, tight smile forming on his lips as he gave her a defeated look. Merlin, but she was stubborn.

"It'll be hard."

"I imagine it will be," she said with a teasing voice. "But that's your choice, not mine."

He laughed softly as she pulled herself into the chair beside him. And there they sat for a long moment, both lost and found at the same time.

When Harry came home in the morning, he discovered them both asleep in Sirius' enormous chair from Grimmauld, their feet propped up on the austere black leather ottoman and Tonks' head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his far hip as Remus' old phonograph played a scratchy record that had probably reset over and over again throughout the night.

_Beside the garden wall, when stars are bright, you are in my arms.  
The nightingale tells his fairytale of paradise where roses grew.  
Though I dream in vain, always in my heart you will remain..my stardust melody.  
The memory of love's refrain. _

Harry's eyes traced as he listened to the song for a minute; then he stifled a laugh at the cornball lyrics as he leaned against the doorframe and watched them sleep for a moment, smiling in his relief.

It looked as if everything was falling into place better than he had hoped. Sometimes love really was as simple as loving someone and having them love you back.

**_tbc_**

_

* * *

__Author's Note: _

_The lyrics are from "Stardust" written by Mitchell Parish and Hoagy Carmichael in 1929.  
_

_Also, I tweaked the Yeats poem a bit. The second line, as written by Yeats, ends in "this book," not "these memories."  
_

_A big hug and thank you for the reviews! They mean a lot to me and keep me going. Rest assured that there will be closure with these two and with the werewolf regulations, as well. The ring will also reappear in a later update. _

_Next chapter, Remus meets with his first contact regarding the Ministry's werewolf legislation. You guys may be surprised at who it is. (big grin)._

_Cheers to you all,_

_rane _


	7. Day 3

"_Small opportunities are often the beginning of great enterprises."_

_Demosthenes_

"_Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes."_

_Carl Jung_

* * *

"**Day Three"**

"…_uh…oh yes…yes…Remus-"_

Remus started awake and pushed his hand into his crotch involuntarily when he sat up in the chair. Tonks was gone, the place beside him cold. He looked in irritation at the phonograph; and his sleeping mind, still slightly in control, knew that the song had played and played and played…

_You wandered down the lane and far away, leaving me a song that would not die._

_Love is now the stardust of yesterday, the music of the years gone by…_

The last lines were too much and he got out of the chair clumsily, his leg asleep, hand still pushed into his pants as he hastily lifted the needle off the record with a screech and immediately walked to the bathroom.

He took a very long shower and dealt with dire necessities then walked over to the wardrobe and looked at the string of hangered clothes Tonks had bought for him, his eyebrows knitting. After a moment of almost childlike stubbornness, he rummaged until he found the few left_ he_ owned - a pair of horribly worn brown tweed pants and a white oxford shirt with a badly patched rip on the side.

_What would have been wrong with making love, for old time's sake?…Merlin, stop thinking about yourself. _

Remus walked slowly into the kitchen with a haggard look on his features. Yesterday had worn on him more than he thought. And last night…the calm that he'd tried to maintain lately was getting ready to break. He couldn't be near her anymore…it hurt too much. Did he push her away to make things easier for her or for him?

"Did your shower get all the kinks out?"

"What?" Remus knew he looked a bit alarmed.

"It must have been a hard night in the chair. Why didn't you guys just get up and go to bed?" his godson asked.

Remus sat down at the table, looking fairly miserable.

"…..Yeah, well…I talked to Tonks before she left this morning." Harry glared at Remus for a minute as he stirred his cereal absent-mindedly, the swirling sound of metal on china cutting through the silence of the kitchen.

Suddenly, the sound stopped as the young man got up to take the mushy cereal to the sink. "You really are a stubborn, self-righteous prat, you know that, right?"

Harry got a new bowl and the box of cereal and put them in front of Remus when he sat back down. Remus just put an elbow on the table and rested his fist against his upper lip, considering the description. Sounded about right.

When Remus didn't pour himself any cereal, Harry poured some for him and spelled the milk over as he talked.

"I understand where you're coming from with Tonks. After going to LCH and….looking into the laws…I get it. And…in a weird way, I admire you for doing what you think is right even when it's hard on you….But the thing is, I can understand your point of view…and also recognize that you're doing the wrong thing….You _are_ doing the wrong thing, Remus. Tonks knows the rules will change. And even if they don't, she doesn't care. She loves you."

"I know she does, Harry. And I wish the world were different right now. But it's not."

"Then we'll make it different," Harry said as he poured milk on Remus' cereal and handed him the spoon.

"Perhaps we will," he said quietly, looking into the bowl.

After a long moment of silence, Harry said slowly and softly, as if reciting an instructional lesson, "The spoon goes into the bowl and under the cereal. Then you raise your hand and put the cereal in your mouth."

Lupin's immediate laughter made Harry laugh, as well.

"Breakfast Consumption 101," Lupin said, appeasing Harry with a small grin as he dipped into the cereal with no appetite whatsoever.

Harry looked Remus over then leaned across the table to say, "Somehow, I know everything's going to be okay. Especially when I get to relay messages like this."

"Messages like what?" Remus said through a bite of cereal, a little bit concerned at the mischief playing across Harry's face.

"Tonks said you'd throw something on old today because you'd be defensive, and she wanted me to remind you that she didn't buy those clothes to keep the hangers company."

Lupin stopped chewing and turned a bit red around the edges. Damn….she really did know him too well sometimes. "I see," he said, starting to smile. "Well, if not today, tomorrow then."

"Will you go to Hogwarts with me today, to see Pomfrey and talk to McGonagall?" Harry said hopefully. "We have our first team quidditch practice at nine. Thought we'd get an early start even though it's still a month 'til classes start."

Remus nodded. "I have some business to attend to there, anyway."

"With McGonagall?"

"No, with…someone else."

"And then you'll go speak to Old Lady Gryffindor, right?"

"Old Lady Gryffindor!." Remus took a moment to reminisce inwardly. "She's had that nickname a long time. We used to call her that."

"Sirius told me."

"Oh….well, if you've recycled the nickname and it makes the rounds again, _please_ tell her you heard it from Sirius. I'm too old to get boxed about the ears by her."

"She wouldn't do that," Harry chastised. "…..to a co-worker."

And Remus stirred his cereal, the swirl of china on metal the only sound emanating from the suddenly quiet kitchen

* * *

Remus felt his chest tighten as he walked through the dark and dank halls of Hogwarts. Merlin, he loved it here. With every new hallway, each passing room, his mind replayed a dozen moments – all of them, in one way or another, good memories. Memories received in the innocence of youth…of laughter, of knowledge and growth. A gentler time before war had touched them. 

And then, of course, there were later memories from his teaching days. And he was surprised to find that he held those even more dear, because he had given back to the place that accepted him so openly as a child. It had meant the world to him. And still did.

But what arose in his mind foremost was the day he left, creeping off before the letters started to arrive. He had disgraced the school….disgraced the only place he'd ever felt valued. Hogwarts had given him everything, and he repaid it by sullying its reputation. If he returned to teach, he could only imagine the backlash, the articles, the large amount of school time and energy that would be devoted to defending him instead of focusing on the children. And in the wake of war, they had enough to deal with, enough fear and loss to overcome without having to worry about a dark creature teaching them about the dark arts.

Before he knew it, Remus found himself at Severus Snape's door and knocked pragmatically. No answer. He had just raised his hand to knock again when Filch came up behind him.

"Professor Lupin…" Filch's face held the same repulsed sneer he'd worn the last time they had met. Actually, it was the only expression Remus had ever seen on the man, but he didn't take it personally.

"Hello, Mr. Filch."

Filch petted Mrs. Norris' matted hair awkwardly and looked at the door. "Hmmm, Snape keeps to himself these days, spends most of his time at a cottage he built on the far property. By the sea…If he's about, you'll find 'em there."

"Thank you," Lupin said with a small smile as he started back down the hallway.

"See you for the start of classes then," Filch said lowly as he walked in the opposite direction.

And Lupin stopped and turned around, his face puzzled. He thought about calling after the man to ask what he meant but thought better of it.

It was an hour's walk to the far property, and the wind had changed, whistling through the trees in a low, dangerous song. Remus could smell the impending rain in the air.

Finally, he left the thicket for an open field and the cliffs ahead, the fairly large cottage quite close to their edge and smoke rising from its chimney. The sky was a broken line of grey and white as a large storm headed his way, pushing in like a wall of darkness and creating a shadowy line across the liquid sea.

A figure stood near the edge, leaning his rear against a large boulder, his black clothes billowing as the wind ebbed then screamed in fits of warning. Remus finally came up by Snape and leaned against the same rock, hands in pockets, the lapels of his threadbare coat whipping at his neck. They didn't look at each other.

"Storm's coming," Remus said quietly.

"No need to state the obvious. I do have eyes," Snape drawled hoarsely. He gave Remus a quick glare before looking into the sky again.

"That wasn't a personal jab, by the way."

Remus laughed. "I didn't take it as such."

One heavy drop at a time, the storm overtook them, rain pelting down in torrents as they sat. Remus smiled serenely and looked up at the sky, wincing a bit as the drops hit his eyes. He turned to look briefly at Snape, eyes closed and sitting very still, his forehead knitted and his mouth pursed shut.

The war had taken a toll on him, as well. Snape's voice was permanently damaged and a cane his constant companion after hours of torture at Voldemort's hands. A streak of greyish white ran through his greasy hair, now plastered flat by the rain.

And, if anything, it appeared that Snape had given in to certain eccentricities of the mind that he had probably fostered inwardly most of his life. War did that to people…. Remus understood. Staying dry was nothing compared to being alive, to feeling the rain on your skin.

It could be a beautiful thing….when it was chosen. Remus had seen days behind London City Holding, homeless years huddled in the forest…when harsh rain was the epitome of hopelessness. But now, he welcomed it as a shared experience.

Sluggishly, the stormy weather began to pass and stray streaks of sunlight fell around them, spotting the grass and sea in slow movement as clear skies fought to break free from the dissipating thunder clouds.

Somewhere in the distance, a lone bird began to sing brightly.

Snape stirred and finally looked at the werewolf who gave him a mild gaze in return.

"Mystics claim that rain cleanses many things."

Remus traced his eyes for a moment then shrugged and looked back at the ocean.

"We learn new lessons every day, I guess…..Nature can be a good teacher."

"And what did you just learn from getting needlessly ravaged by a storm?" Snape said with a hint of spite.

Lupin laughed. "Actually, to be quite honest, I didn't get much more out of that than a bath. But I haven't been in a very good frame-of-mind lately."

"What do you want, Lupin!" Snape snapped suddenly as he moved forward from the rock and wrapped his heavy, wet cloak around him.

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Really? You haven't come to beg McGonagall for the DADA position?"

"No," he said quietly.

Snape took a step forward, his jaw set. "You realize, of course, she's already closed the position and you listed as….'the chosen one'."

Snape's nostrils flared as he looked at Remus menacingly and took one more heavy step, his cane slurping into the mud.

"Odd, considering you haven't even approached her regarding the post….. Perhaps you've been too busy laying that pink-haired slut to think about gainful employment."

Remus' hand lashed onto Snape's neck in a heartbeat. The ex-Deatheater made a strangled noise but didn't raise his hands; the small smile on his lips faded away when Remus increased the pressure.

Snape looked into the face just inches from his, one eye vacant and worn, a thick scar cutting deeply into sharp features; and he felt the man's intense sadness and anger as he was pushed backward, and Remus immediately walked away.

Snape touched his throat carefully as he watched the werewolf storm off, heading not for the school but for Hogsmeade, probably to take the floo back to London.

Snape swallowed with a heavy wince. He had that coming….he really was a bastard.

Knowing his voice wouldn't reach the werewolf, he pulled himself up slowly and began walking. Remus heard the caned steps behind him and turned then did a double take. When he did, Snape raised his hand, gesturing for him to stop.

Remus gave him a hard glare, shoulders clenched and eyes slightly narrowed. But at least he had stopped. And Snape judged him guardedly for a moment then looked away. He'd never been one to apologize, but post-war life was attempting to teach him many things he should have learned long ago.

"That was uncalled for….I shouldn't begrudge you happiness simply because I have none."

He heard controlled anger in Lupin's voice when he answered, "Nymphadora and I are not seeing one another anymore, Severus. I have nothing to offer her. But I do love her, and I won't have her spoken about that way. She's a good person."

Snape nodded. They stood facing each other in silence; the air quiet save the distant and low sound of fading post-storm thunder.

"You wished to speak to me concerning something?" Snape muttered hoarsely.

When Remus looked hesitant, a livid muscle still working in his jaw, Snape prodded, "We can go back to my cottage or go to the school…..it matters not….though the cottage would be preferable…."

"Perhaps the cottage," Remus finally said, sounding almost defeated.

They walked in complete silence back to the professor's home, letting the tension peel away from the both of them. And when Snape unlocked the heavily warded door, Remus was surprised to find a quite comfortable, sparsely decorated home full of light and warmth. The hardwood floors and light wood furniture were accented by black draperies, a large lion rug and several overstuffed chairs. Remus noticed, with interest, that there were no books, no potions equipment in sight.

"You don't work here."

"No," Snape said hoarsely as he muttered _accio_ to procure two brandy snifters. "I think here. And sleep…..And heal." He watched brandy swirl into the glasses with intense interest then looked up at Remus as if the werewolf were a fool. "You needn't stand all day. Sit where you must."

Remus sighed and found himself a chair and Severus sat across from him, cane in one hand, snifter in the other as he leaned back fully into the warmth of the chair.

Remus had already dried his clothes with wandless magic and absently flicked his hand forward to dry Snape's, as well. Snape looked down with interest but didn't register any surprise.

"I already knew about your little proclivity, Lupin." He sneered and took a deep swallow of brandy then began to smile, something seemingly wicked about its edges, perhaps because Lupin had seen Snape smile so few times.

"Dumbledore once said that you were more powerful than he was at your age…but you always chose to hide your powers, even in the midst of war….only to dry a wool cloak with them now? That _is_ excellent implementation of your talents, I must say."

"Call it wariness. It's not very safe to be a werewolf and a _Venificus primo_ simultaneously. Doesn't exactly put people's minds at ease…..I use them when I must."

"And why now? Why share this little tidbit with me in such a casual manner?"

Remus tried to look at him seriously then blushed and smiled. "I….uhm…I forgot my wand this morning."

To his surprise, Snape laughed and nodded. "Very good," he said before taking another drink of brandy. "Thank you for drying my clothes then, _Venificus primo_." When Severus lowered the snifter again, he twirled the cane absently in his left hand as he studied the werewolf. Remus, for his part, looked at the cane, recognizing the silver snake with emerald eyes that served as the handle – Lucius Malfoy's cane. Perhaps it had been left to Snape in Lucius' will. Or Draco's.

"Now that we're on our way to a decent level of inebriation, what do you want?"

"Well…" Remus cleared his throat and looked out the window for a long moment. "I'm not sure where to begin….Cretagus Grendil, the Spanish potions master, has recently developed a new wolfsbane that requires only one dosage within five days of the full moon….and it doesn't need preservation. He uses different ingredients in lieu of several fragile and quite costly ones….but his formula has the same efficacy as the current potion, if not greater. And it has no side effects whatsoever."

"Of course, I have heard this. The last installment of _Potions Quarterly_ devoted an entire issue to it." Snape took another deep drink and seemed to hesitate before adding, "I did try to send you a copy of the article last month, but the owl returned….I assumed you were dead."

Remus looked uncomfortable. "I was probably recovering behind London City Holding. Owls aren't allowed past the outer perimeter."

"Why would you stay in that place longer than necessary?"

"If I can't walk, I can't leave."

Snape looked slightly stunned at the thought. "A number of people would come for you."

"I'd rather they didn't……Harry came for me a few days ago, though."

Snape visibly flinched at the name. "Ah….and how is the little darling doing?"

"He's fine. Looking forward to his last year at school….And hoping to get to know you better."

Snape shook his head in bored annoyance and glanced out the window. "Lupin, I dislike Harry Potter deeply. Almost as deeply as I despised his father, and I doubt those sentiments will change any time soon. You may pass on that message for me, if you will."

Snape was perturbed by the silence that followed and turned his glare back to Lupin, only to find the werewolf lost in thought and choosing his words carefully. "I will pass that on. He's just…he knows that he misjudged you, and he feels badly for that. Give him a chance, Severus. He might surprise you. Harry shares many of his father's traits, but he is his own person. He's stronger and more complete than James was at his age…He's…wise beyond his years, really. And he has thought a lot this summer about getting to know you."

Snape pursed his lips diffidently before saying, "It matters not."

"He knows you had to kill Dumbledore in order to fulfill the Unbreakable Vow you had with him. He understands that now…and he accepts it. He-"

Snape interjected, his voice a ragged dagger. "Lupin, until Harry has had to kill the only person who believed in him, he cannot understand what I had to do! And I would appreciate it if he didn't assume otherwise."

Lupin looked at Severus carefully, finger tapping on the glass before he drained it and put it down, letting his hand linger on it as he tried to decide how much to say, what level of comfort Snape would accept. He began slowly.

"Your cover was the most important tool we had in the war…. It was more important than any one person. Dumbledore knew that. He begged you to do the right thing. And you did. I know how hard that was for you. I'm sorry if you don't feel it's possible for people to understand that. But I do. And I think Harry understands now, as well."

"And yet, I will always be 'The Deatheater', 'Voldemort's Lapdog', 'The Murderer of Albus Dumbledore.' You walked away from the war a hero, Lupin. I limped away with a dozen new epithets connected to my name, nothing more."

Remus looked down and shook his head before looking back at Snape.

"You had the hardest job of all of us. You had the most to lose….and people fighting you from both sides while you tried to maintain a foothold in two worlds. You had so few people who trusted you, on both sides. Tell me if I'm missing the mark."

"And if it weren't for you, I would have been killed by Order members on two separate occasions. Yes, I know, Lupin."

"I wasn't going to bring that up."

"But you were thinking about it."

"No….I wasn't. You're far too defensive."

"It's the only thing that has kept me alive this long."

Remus stared at him as if he'd just realized something terribly insightful. "Maybe it's the thing that kills us, too….It's okay to admit that I helped you, Severus. And it's okay for me to understand….don't be so desperate to suffer it all alone. I think…maybe that's a lesson we both need to learn."

When neither could think of anything to say in response, Severus finally snapped, "Lupin, have you come to regale me with your knowledge about a new innovation in my field? What, exactly, is the purpose of this visit?"

When Remus just looked at him neutrally, Severus prodded, "I'm not going to sit here and discuss the war with you…or, even worse, our shared emotional shortcomings...Cretagus Grendil and his new formula. What about him or it, in particular?"

Remus shifted in his seat. Finally, he got up and stood by the window, his back to Snape as he cautiously began, "….I've never been one to cash in a debt. In fact, I don't think I've ever done it. But…..I would like to ask a favor of you.….."

Snape twirled his cane slowly through the creeping fingers of one hand and tried not to smirk. "I'm listening."

Remus took a deep breath and sat back down, wiped at his unshaven face as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees in thought.

"London City Holding has 739 occupants and 227 employees – 190 guards, 20 custodians, 15 armed guards who control the perimeter, and two journalists who handle publicity and letters to the families of those who have died. In total, monthly pay for those people is 101,226 galleons."

Snape's eyebrows went up. "That seems awfully high for a few days of work per month."

"Well…." Lupin shook his head. "They're paid an entire month for a few day's service by Dolores Umbridge, because their job is considered so odious and…a patriotic necessity. They're also hand chosen for their hatred of werewolves."

When Remus paused, Snape just nodded.

"If Grendil's new wolsfbane is as effective as he claims….and so much cheaper and easier to manufacture….I've done research on the ingredients and the time it takes to produce. One dosage of Grendil's wolfsbane costs 7 sickles to create. It would cost only 304 galleons to medicate 739 werewolves. If they hired two potions masters, four potions assistants, two people to attend to administration the five days before the moon, and one assistant to the auror force to report anyone who hasn't arrived for their dose, monthly cost of such a program would run 5,096 galleons…., assuming they paid these people excellent but fair wages for their fields and paid them only for the time worked. That's 96,130 galleons less that what it currently cost the Ministry to "maintain" the werewolf population with LCH in effect."

Snape looked into his empty glass for a moment, considering Remus' idea. "I see….impossible to appeal to the Ministry's ethics, why not appeal to their pocketbook?"

"Precisely. They're willing to fight for unethical things when it saves them money, why not do the right thing and save money at the same time."

"The right thing….that's your point of view."

"Yes."

"People will fight this stringently. It's a large step."

"I feel like it's a very small step, in the grand scheme of things, Severus. All we're asking for is the right to keep our minds, to not become dangerous creatures. If they deny us wolfsbane and cage us, we can only destroy ourselves."

"And you realize, of course, that may be the intent."

"….Yes."

"And for those who don't arrive for their dosage?"

"A warning the first time, unless a crime is committed, of course, and a felony offense the second time. But to have five full days to stop by. If the program works, owl delivery of the wolfsbane could be a next step….And along with this, I'd like to ask for removal of the bylaws that keep us from taking jobs and control our….personal lives."

"Greyback's reign of terror is long since gone…I'm surprised those laws are still in effect."

"They are. Umbridge has a large degree of control at the moment."

Snape leaned heavily on his cane as he got up to pick out another bottle of Muggle alcohol. Something stronger seemed worthy of the current conversation.

"739 registered werewolves in England? Last numbers I recall…there were, I believe, over a thousand."

"1,572 at the end of the war. That was before London City Holding."

Snape stood still, looking into the uncorked bottle. "That many have died?"

Remus heard his voice rise an octave. "Do you know anything about London City Holding, Severus?"

"Nothing in particular," Snape said drolly as he poured amber rum high into the goblets.

Remus didn't respond but took the drink Severus offered.

"Obviously, it's quite awful. And it appears that Umbridge implements it to thin out of the population with great success."

"And by denying us work and access to wolfsbane, she creates a weaker prisoner who has a harder time surviving the night…and surviving the rest of the month, as well."

Severus sat down with a heavy grimace and studied the werewolf in front of him. LCH had to be much worse than he had read, if Lupin were any gauge. It appeared his old schoolmate didn't have much time left. To put it bluntly, he looked quite horrible. And Severus was surprised to find a very uncharacteristic thought crossing his mind as his eyes roved over the werewolf's frail frame. _If you had taken the time to acknowledge Lupin when he walked over, you could have spared him sitting through that storm. He's too weak to be doing things like that._

Lupin had sacrificed much for their world during the war, and now his fellow wizards and witches were destroying him. _Why should I care?_ But he found that he did. And as much as he hated to acknowledge it, he did owe Lupin.….he could grudgingly admit it. And he felt better for making peace with that truth, in some small corner of his mind.

"What do you want me to do?" Snape asked softly.

"Cretagus Grendil's new wolfsbane is heavily patented….You're a colleague of his. Would you be willing to discuss this possibility with him? To see if he would allow it to be mass produced for the population here?"

Snape gave him a quite small but genuine smile, free of any sneer. "Lupin, Grendil is a hopeless eccentric. I can't guarantee anything…but I will approach him concerning the matter."

Remus' shoulders slumped a bit in relief and he nodded. "Thank you, Severus. You don't know how much this means to me."

Cringing at the gratitude, Severus spoke quickly.

"So it's settled…and two impossible things have occurred today. Remus Lupin has asked someone for help, and Severus Snape has offered to do someone a favor. The angels are weeping, I'm sure."

Remus smiled broadly.

"Have you eaten?"

"I'm fine, I had some breakfast this morning at Harry's."

"Yes, but it's 3 pm."

"Thank you, but I'm fine."

Severus looked up at the ceiling lazily, the alcohol threading through his veins and making him more open than usual.

"Lupin, I'm sure people are constantly trying to feed you, and you turn them down with great alacrity; but in light of your request, I would appreciate in the very least, as recompense, some company for a late lunch. Believe it or not, potionmasters tend to know a great deal about the art of cooking."

Remus laughed and agreed to stay. They shared several relaxing hours on the back porch, looking at the ocean over tea and talk, not all of it small. And Remus didn't know why, but he found it quite funny that Snape made the best treacle tart he'd ever had in his life.

As Remus walked back towards the quidditch pitch in the waning light to wait for Harry, he caught the smell of someone walking toward him, the disillusionment spell unable to mask her chemical trace. Before she could show herself, he stopped, hands in pockets as he lowered his head, looking over his eyebrows with a reprimanding look.

_Can't even sneak up on the man for a good goose! _

Suddenly, the air rippled and Nymphadora stood in front of him, her wand holstered and her auror badge folded across the tuck of her jeans.

"Wotcher, Remus," she said quietly, quelling the urge to goose him anyway.

"Tonks…what are you doing here?"

She glanced toward the woods where he'd come from. "My least favorite thing – spying on our own. Snape is still on the watch list; and we have to keep a record of who comes and goes, what he's up to."

Remus shook his head, chastising her. "Tonks, really."

"Hey, it's an order from Intelligence, Remus….just one more thing we should stop since the war's over...He's not my favorite person. In fact, he's one of my least favorite people…but I think he's suffered enough….and I think he's…well, 'innocent' isn't the word…."

"He's paid his dues, Tonks. And I trust him."

She nodded then looked up at him, almost timidly. "Sorry I had to leave so early this morning….I didn't want to wake you."

Remus didn't answer but was glad for the low light. He could feel the heat in his face. Parts of him had been very awake when she left.

"Do you think Snape can help with the forum?"

"I hope he can….if he can't, there's no plan two."

"And….he understands how important this is to you?" she asked in earnest.

Remus studied her for a moment, an odd expression on his face. "I think he does. I shouldn't assume that he can't see things from my point of view."

"Well…what I was thinking….was that if he knew it was important to you, he'd be less cooperative."

Remus smiled. "That's the Snape-hater in you."

"Absolutely" she answered. But Remus put his hand up and shook his head.

"I trust him to do what he can….he doesn't like to feel indebted to people, and helping me might rid him of that, at least in my regard. But….even more so…I think Snape has let many things go."

Tonks nodded. "By the way, the pink-haired slut remark? The cottage it too heavily warded, but we have the outer perimeter spell-bugged. He knows we have to watch him, so….he wasn't trying to get a rise out of you as much as take a jab at me. He knew I'd hear the conversation eventually…..if not immediately."

Remus stuffed his hands in his pocket and shifted his weight when he said, "I take any jab at you quite personally, Nymphadora Tonks."

She could only look up at him, a hesitant smile finally growing on her face when her summons beeper went off. Tonks rolled her eyes at the lost moment, and the voice of Moody's nephew abruptly emanated.

"Miss Tonks, Snape is outside again. He's just looking at the sky."

"Yes, Octavius. What do you need?"

"Uhm…nothing. I just thought I should let you know…." Suddenly, he blurted, "Maybe he's looking for the Dark Mark in the sky!"

"Octavius…he's probably just looking at the stars. He spends a lot of time doing that."

"Alright…" The young man sounded crestfallen.

"I'll be back in a moment. Don't get your knickers in a wad, okay?"

"O…okay. Octavius out."

Tonks looked at Remus with a hint of humor. "Octavius Moody is shadowing me tonight as part of his apprentice duties."

"Ah…Moody's Greek god of a nephew." He looked at her with mock seriousness. "I'm so sorry. It must be hard looking at him all night."

"I don't see it," Tonks said frankly, although a big smile played on her face.

"Tonks, please. Dead women can see it."

"Not me," she insisted; her answer gentle, the humor gone.

Sure, Tonks knew Octavius was gorgeous…but he did nothing for her. Nothing like the swell she felt every time she saw this man in front of her, this lovely man…this lovely man in….horrible clothes!

_Two points for calling him on that one, Tonks. _

She was about to make a playful remark about his morning choice of attire when, suddenly, an owl swooped over and nicked his hair then landed on his shoulder, holding a short roll of parchment forward to him in one clawed foot. Remus broke the Hogwarts seal and read the short note.

_Remus Lupin, I know you're on the grounds. You'll be spending the night here, and I expect to see you within the hour._

_Pomfrey_

Tonks watched Remus' face as he read the summons and took it for bad news.

"What's wrong?"

"It..uhm, it appears I'm due in the infirmary."

Tonks laughed and leaned forward to kiss him gently on the cheek then brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"Don't make it sound like such a chore." Her fingers lingered around his damaged eye and after a moment, she reached up on her toes again to kiss near the lid of it, letting the touch linger.

"I should be getting back." She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I'll see you soon?"

"Okay," he whispered, entranced by her soft voice.

She walked away from him and dissipated into nothingness as the charm took hold once again. And although he could no longer see her, he stood still in the darkness until her scent fell from the air.

Finally, and with great regret, he turned and walked slowly back toward the school, a hundred conflicting thoughts rushing through his mind…and he was surprised to find the best thoughts slowing to a halt….caught in the clutches of his heart where they sat, warm and content.

_What would have been wrong with making love, for old time's sake?_

_Nothing, his heart answered. It would have been beautiful…It would have felt so right.. _

_**tbc**_

_

* * *

__Author's Note:_

_Did you guys see that one coming? (big grin) Snape will be back in later chapters. _

_I hope this chapter, especially when compared to the last one, shows that Remus is in a heavy battle between his intellect and his emotions. He's been through a lot, and it will take him longer to accept happiness; but having people who love you and believe in you goes a long way. _

_The "Venificus primo" reference is from Queriusole's first RLNT series and is used throughout her 25 story arc. Although the concept of Remus being capable of wandless magic appears throughout fanon (and the in PoA film, as well), linking this ability to early Roman wizardry is solely her creation. _

_And Snape's post-war physical description comes from Snape's Nightie and her delectable but very OOC post-war Snape as visually described in her Snupins "Salvage what you can" and "Softly Whispering 'I Love You'." _

_Both references were used with kind permission and crept in as a homage, of sorts. Thank you **so** much, Queriusole and Snape's Nightie! I know I've said it before, but if it weren't for guys like you, I would have never started writing. _

_Please review, if you can! Even if it's just a quick note to say 'yay' or 'nay,' feedback really keeps me going. _

_Thank you all for going on this journey with me, and hope you continue to enjoy._

_Cheers and well wishes,_

_rane_


	8. Day 4

"_Thou shalt not be a victim.  
Thou shalt not be a propagator.  
Above all, thou shalt not be a bystander."_

_engraved on the Holocaust Memorial, Washington D.C._

_

* * *

__A Native American elder once described his own inner struggles in this manner. _

"_Inside of me there are two wolves. One of the wolves is mean and cruel. The other wolf is good. The mean wolf fights the good wolf all the time." _

_When asked which wolf wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, "The one I feed the most."_

* * *

"**Day Four"**

Upon waking, Remus peeled one eye open to find a long familiar site – the high gabled ceiling of the Hogwarts' infirmary. How many mornings of his childhood had he awoken to the thick vaulted wood and heavy tapestry house emblems moving lazily in the drafty room. And every time, he had the same thought. Perhaps the transformations were just terrible dreams, for he always came to safein the arms of family. Remus reached a tenuous hand up to touch the potion-soaked cloth that covered his damaged eye, but-

"TchTch!"

Poppy's hand batted his away, and he turned to find her at his side, waving her wand over his arm then touching it carefully, her fingers pushing through the bright orange glow that surrounded it.

"Can you feel this?"

"A bit," he whispered hoarsely then cleared his throat. "No more than usual, though."

She shook her head. "That mangy beast had strong dark magic….and big teeth! It's especially bad where he almost wrenched your arm off…do you have any sensation at all right here?"

Remus had to turn his head to even see where she touched him and found her fingers prodding below his shoulder.

"No," he answered quietly, then twitched his nose at the acrid smell coming from the rag on his face.

"What's this on my eye?" It smells like-"

She batted his hand away again. "It's Phoenix ashes, mixed with the blood of a Kestrel seven day's dead."

"Smells more like two days…floating in water," Remus muttered. "Poppy-"

"Leave the covering on!"

"It stinks," he said, laughing.

"You were _never_ this difficult a patient as a child."

He considered that for a moment then said thoughtfully, "I've always been difficult."

"Hmm…stubborn, perhaps," she replied with a smile, holding her wand carefully over his arm as the last of the spell dissipated. "It just didn't transfer over into your behavior as a patient before."

"Well…I'm falling apart. Nothing seems to heal anymore, so I guess I don't take my health as seriously as I once did."

Remus said this casually and had no idea how hard the words hit her. He missed the way she looked at him like a lost son who had finally come home, only to infer he would soon leave again, never to return.

Remus stretched under the starched white sheets as he scanned the room for his clothes; and before he could stop himself, he repeated a very old joke between the two of them. "Medi-witches have a fairly cold bedside manner, Poppy, but they can charm the pants off anyone."

Pomfrey traded in her worrisome gaze for a stern smile. "I hear that at least three times a day during the school year! Your clothes are hung up in my office. Don't be in such a rush to leave."

He relaxed back into the crisp sheets and blinked tiredly. The magic pulsing through his system all night had drained him, but Pomfrey looked exhausted. The grey under her eyes and slump in her shoulders spoke of a sleepless night as she leaned over him, capturing the rest of the glow around his arm in the tip of her wand with a final incantation. Suddenly, she twitched her nose with a laugh. "It does smell, doesn't it?"

He smiled and took her hand. "You've been up all night working on this train wreck, haven't you," he said, throwing a quick glance at his mangled arm.

She didn't answer. "The potion poultice on your eye needs to stay on one more hour. It's working in conjunction with the spell, and you'll need to keep it covered in between treatments until the iris is completely reformed, or it will be one two steps forward one step back and take twice as long to heal."

"Back to they eye patch then," he said with quiet resignation, but she could hear the regret in his voice. He had savored the small sliver of regained vision from the last few days and didn't want to lose it.

"It's only temporary," she chastised. "As long as you come by regularly, or it will regress again. You'll need at least eight more sessions. And good old-fashioned physical therapy for your arm. There's only so much magic will do for it."

"Eight sessions…. " Remus shook his head. "Poppy, you have classes starting. You have a million things to do."

"Now don't argue," she snapped, her frown all business. But she quickly recovered. "I will always have time for my favorite patient. And you'll be here permanently in a week or so anyway, so it will be much easier for you."

Hearing for the third time in two days that Hogwarts had re-employed him, Remus had to sit up, dutifully holding the wet cloth to his eye.

"Poppy…McGonagall hasn't even approached me. Why all this talk of a job offer I haven't even received?"

Pomfrey gave him a reprimanding look. "She doesn't want to argue with you about it."

"She hasn't even asked me!"

"And if she did, would you accept?"

Remus hesitated at the knowing look in Pomfrey's eyes.

"I'm not the best choice for the school, especially since we're recovering from a war in which dark creatures wreaked their share of havoc," he said flatly.

Pomfrey leaned back in her chair and gauged him for a moment, arms crossed. "It's not really for me to say, but…Minerva assumed that if she closed the position and listed you as returning, you'd put up less a fight when you realized…well, when you realized the world didn't come tumbling down around Hogwarts at the thought of your reinstatement."

"She's wasting time. Classes start in a month, and she won't have a teacher."

"Remus, really! You are smarter than this," Pomfrey said incredulously then pushed gently at his shoulder. "Lay back down, you have Kestrel blood running all over you."

She retrieved a small rag to mop up a stream of potion running down his neck and chest then folded the potion-soaked rag neatly over his eye without removing it. Her fingers lingered then dropped to touch the heavy scar running down his face, and her eyebrows knitted.

"What is it?"

She reached for her wand and ran it over the scar with a whispered incantation then traced the path of the wand lightly with her finger. After a moment, she did it again.

"Poppy?"

"Remus, this isn't a werewolf scar. It doesn't even appear to be magically rendered in any way. Do you remember how you received this?"

He knew when but not how. His final battle with Greyback had been nasty and swift – a blur of violence, really, that he could only recall in terrible nightmares and brief, fleeting images.

"I'm not sure how it happened," he admitted.

She touched the skin carefully then broke out in a glowing smile. "I can heal this quite easily, Remus. Your next visit, we'll take care of this overnight. I hadn't paid it mind since we're dealing with things that hinder you"

Remus had never been vain, and he was surprised to find how much the news meant to him. After all, it was just a scar; and his body was covered with those. But it was deep and ugly and a constant reminder of one of the most frightening moments of his life. He had lost control, torn Greyback limb from limb. And every time he looked in the mirror, he saw a memento of the monster he gave into the day - the wolf full of anger and bloodlust who hunted down Fenrir and destroyed him. To have that reminder gone…at least physically…

"Thank you, Poppy. You can't know what it means to find that out."

Before leaving, Remus went to the school library to locate a _Request to Convene the Ministry_ parchment roll from the government files. He sat down in what he considered his "old spot" and put a blank roll alongside the original and spelled it to copy. The quill scratched quietly, swirling in swift curves of exquisite penmanship, but Remus started as the parchment finished with a small, italicized note: _there will be a 170 galleon charge for any request to convene a Ministry forum._

Remus shut his eyes and winced tiredly into his hand, rubbed his face as his head slowly went to the table, wrapped in his arms.

_170 Galleons…Merlin…170…_

He didn't have 170knuts let alone money of that magnitude.

…_one way or another, you have to raise it….and in the meantime, keep making contacts…work on the speech…it'll be okay…_

But he sat in the dark corner a long half hour, staring at the form and wondering if the forum wasn't just a faraway dream he could never reach. A hundred things had to happen. And so far, nothing had come of anything. What if Snape couldn't contact Grendil? Or wouldn't? And even then, Grendil could easily say 'no.' Maybe he should at least wait and make sure he even had the grounds for a forum, let alone the means.

But when the high sun pierced through the prism'd skylights above, he got up with purpose and walked brusquely to Hogsmeade then floo'd to Diagon Alley.

The inner sanctum of magical London bustled with buyers and sellers, window shoppers and roadside cooks…not to mention roadside crooks. He ignored the grumble in his stomach that took hold when the smell of pan-fried meat and potatoes hit him from a passing cart.

Where could he find work? He knew the game now, how it worked. He had done it enough in the last year. Owners would pay dark creatures and illegal immigrants a less than fair wage for small jobs…usually jobs that no one else wanted. But beggars could seldom choose, and more than once he had done an odious job on these streets in exchange for a meal. But he only worked for people he didn't know and where passersby couldn't seen him. There was nothing worse than the thought of a friend or former student spotting him.

Remus walked through the crowded streets, stepping aside occasionally for busy-looking people cutting straight paths through the swarm. He thought heavily on Minerva's "offer." It would make next Sunday's issue of _The Daily Prophet_ with the "back to school" section, mentioning this year's teachers, the school supply lists, etc. What would happen then?

He suddenly realized that the people who knew now were colleagues. And they didn't count when one considered the general reaction to the prospect of his returning. So he would wait and see. And depending on what happened, maybe he would go speak with Minerva, take her up on the kind offer, if no one opposed it. He was surprised to feel his heart jump in excitement at the prospect. But what were the odds on students and parents agreeing to such an appointment? And if the rules didn't change, would the Ministry even allow it? By current law, Hogwarts couldn't even consider him for the position.

He passed Olivander's Wand Shop and looked inside casually then backed up for a second glance. The place was a complete disaster, wand boxes littering the aisles and counters.

Olivander's nephew Merrill peered around in disgust, unsure of where to start. But when the small doorbell rang as Remus entered, the younger man threw him an agitated glance.

"Hello hello! Oh…..Lupin, is it? Werewolf, right?"

"Yes," Remus answered evenly.

"You looking for an odd job here? This is definitely an odd job! Twins came in, tried to fit them with wands, and the whole place exploded in two flicks. And magic can't move the wands, of course, so it will all have to be re-ordered entirely by hand!"

Remus nodded and looked around.

Merrill pulled out an ornate pocketwatch and fretted nervously. "I have to leave, appointment to keep, and my dratted assistant is busy in the back today, doing the books. Could you clean this place up? I could lock the door behind you, and put out the 'will return' sign. Okay, yes? For two galleons, perhaps?"

"Two galleons?" Lupin said in a quiet, detached voice. Even for small odd jobs, it was pathetically below the minimum working wage.

"Well…what about five?"

Remus had an even expression and was about to agree, but Merrill looked nervous. He had neither the time nor the desire to deal with the mess personally. The place really was a disaster area, and it would take hours to reorder.

"Five and lunch?"

Remus silently nodded in agreement.

"Okay, good! Now, there's a small label inside the every box that has the core and wood types listed. Core supersedes wood, so all the cores go together; but organize the wood types together within each core type." Merrill hesitated and looked at Remus as if he wasn't sure a werewolf had the brains to understand such a complicated matter. "Do you understand? Do you have any questions?"

"No, I understand."

The young man just nodded impatiently at Remus as he made to leave. "Five it is, five galleons. Don't raise that on me! And I know how many wands I have!" But as he got to the door, he turned around and eyed Remus for a bit. "I've heard good things about you. I'm assuming I can trust you here for a bit."

Remus just nodded again, already moving to pick up the boxes, as the young man turned around the "open" sign and locked the door behind him. When Merrill walked out into the busy street and the door slid shut on squeaky hinges, Remus leaned against the counter and looked around at the mess.

He checked to make sure the clerk was still nestled in his counting room and rubbed at his face for a moment, eye closed. He breathed in heavily. In his mind, he saw every box, every wand nestled in its box, every power center of every wand glowing from within, the room a strongbox of force and energy, of captured essence. Every wand belonging in its place, in its own space, surrounded by those of like manner, of like substance. A primary center, a secondary covering, a tendril of his mind touching every one, willing them to go where he called.

_Unicorn hair_….phoenix feather...c_obra spine……oak, tallow, and joshua_

Easily, the boxes rose and slowly threaded through the aisle like cross traffic, each heading to its own destination and sliding into its former niche in the wall. After a long minute of concentration, Remus opened his eyes slowly and looked around the shop. Everything was back in its place,

_165 Galleons to go… _

Suddenly, he heard a very familiar laugh from the street outside and turned to see Kingsley Shacklebolt and two other large men, probably aurors, as well, walking down the sidewalk. It appeared that they had just come from lunch. Shacklebolt grinned around a toothpick in his mouth and clapped one of the men on the back.

Remus quickly walked outside and stood in the portico, looking at Shacklebolt earnestly and feeling the tension in his chest as he wondered whether to call the man or not.

"Kingsley!" he yelled.

The auror turned around, a slight flit of low-grade terror evident in his eyes for a split second before he settled on looking resigned and not a little bit defensive.

He turned to his co-workers. "Hey, I'll catch up with you at HQ. Old friend of mine here." He gestured to Lupin and the other two looked at him briefly before nodding with casual goodbyes and heading down the street.

Kingsley tried to smile at him as he pulled the toothpick from his mouth, but Remus could tell he had only stopped out of politeness. He could see the dread in his face.

"Look at you, Lupin." Kingsley gave a deep, throaty laugh and flicked lightly at the eye patch. "Makes you look tough. Rough around the edges, your hair all grown out, scar and all. You should do some work for us on the brute squad! Tall guy like you? If you got some meat on your bones, you could send 'em running."

Remus gave him the barest of smiles as he held open the store door and offered for Kingsley to follow him inside. He looked in good health, but Lupin noticed several pale scars on his dark skin, one across his bald pate and another on his earlobe where it appeared a thrashing claw caught on an earring and ripped it through the flesh.

As soon as the door swung shut, Kingsley's face went serious, his voice low with a threatening undertone Remus knew he didn't intend.

"I know about the forum, mate. Moody told me about it. He's already been working me."

Remus could only nod. Part of him felt terrible for approaching the auror, who shifted on his feet and tried to sound pragmatic when he offered, "Why not ask Roe Bertram? He's the resident werewolf on the force. They use him in full moon raids…and illegal potions detection."

Kingsley burst out in nervous laughter and Lupin had to laugh with him. It was terribly funny to think of a man sniffing crates in a warehouse for a living.

Remus was reticent to admit it, but he had looked into Bertram. "Well…I did check his work record. He gets written up quite a bit, arguments with co-workers, problems with authority….Kingsley, I'm only asking because you're a stellar auror. You're in the top of your field here, just like you were at Hogwarts. People look up to you. They respect you…and you were bitten in the line of duty. If you spoke at the forum, it would hold a lot of weight."

"Lupin…" When Kingsley moved away from the wall and stood up straight, taking a step forward; Lupin had to crane his neck; and he rarely had to do that for anyone. "If you were me, would you let people know?"

Remus thought for a moment and realized he could only answer, "I'm not sure."

"I've got a wife, a baby….and we'd like to have more. I don't want the Ministry telling me I can't have kids, Lupin. And I don't want my family getting harassed because of me."

"I understand, Kingsley, I really do. But if everything worked out, you wouldn't have to worry about those things. You wouldn't have to hide any longer."

Shacklebolt just shrugged. "Hiding has served me well. Moody stood by me. No registry mark, and no one has to know. I take full moons off, and people don't seem to notice one way or another. I order rare steak at lunch, and no one thinks a thing about it. Because I'm a big guy, and big guys like red meat."

"It's all temporary….hiding doesn't work forever," he answered frankly.

"Lupin.." Shacklebolt looked into the heavy foot traffic and fumbled in his pockets for a cigarette. He lit one with his wand then took a heavy, impatient drag.

"Let me tell you how I see things. And I hate to say it, mate. I really do. But this isn't going to get any better. Society is fucking paranoid right now. This whole forum thing? It's going to get you killed. Now we're going to do everything we can to keep that from happening, but this is a right quagmire. Umbridge is the queen bitch over there. She gets what she wants. And she has the press under her fat little finger. You know that, right?"

Remus nodded, the look on his face indulgent but clearly showing that he didn't agree.

"Let me give you some advice. Take the bloody LCH waiver. Get yourself a good Muggle job, get good wolfsbane owled from France. Or buy it on the blackmarket here for all I care."

Kingsley clapped him on the shoulder, the cigarette tight in his lips. "And settle down with Tonks, mate! She doesn't give a flying fuck what anyone thinks; and if you have a multicolored werewolf cub…move out of country if they put a warrant out on you."

But Remus couldn't stop thinking about Kingsley's baby. The auror had been a lady's man, a swinging bachelor who played the field to the hilt. And here he was settling down, raising a family. He was lucky…how many werewolves had managed to keep the families they had before the bite, let alone start new ones afterward. Very few…

"Your baby…he's how old now?"

"Six months." Shacklebolt took the cigarette out of his mouth to exhale a stream of smoke then beamed with pride.

Remus nodded and asked lowly, "Was he born with it, Kingsley?"

The auror put the cigarette back in his mouth and looked into the street; and when he pulled it out and exhaled, looking down, his voice was tinged with an emotion Remus knew he didn't like people to see.

"Takes the wolfsbane in his bottle…Pukes up most of it….He…screams through the transformations…..then howls for hours. But Marietta's a good mother..and I let him curl up with me…lick his face…it calms him."

Kingsley suddenly flushed an odd color of maroon. "Sounds right mad to say it like that," he laughed, but his lower lip trembled and the laugh gave way to tears in his eyes.

But Lupin gave him a hard look. "Think about your son…you can help form the world that awaits him. We have to try and change things."

"The world is what it is, Lupin!" Kingsley snapped.

For a moment, they both stood, looking at the bustling crowd outside, chatter and movement muffled by the thick glass of Olivander's window. Kingsley sniffed sullenly.

"It's your decision…it's your life. But eventually, people will find out. I've been through it a dozen times…enough to stop hiding. You've been luckier than most. The aurors who know, who were there that night, they've covered for you. Your family understands and has been supportive…. But hiding is a temporary solution. It's better for you to be upfront. Because if people find out on their own, there will always be those who take discretion as a lie, who will say you deceived them, even if your condition in no way affected them or put them in danger…."

Remus gave him time to respond, but Kingsley just stood silent. "I know all about this, Kingsley. I've lived it over and over again."

Kingsley opened the door to flick down his cigarette and stomp it out, glaring at the concrete with an impatient nod.

"Bloody sucks, Lupin…all of it."

He threw out his hand and shook Lupin's firmly, giving him a hard expression.

"I'll talk to my family…and to Moody. Give me some time to think about it…. But don't expect me to give up what I have for change that won't happen. They're not going to allow this forum, mate. It'll never happen."

Kingsley made to leave then shut the door again as he shook his head and stuffed hands into his coat pockets. "Bloody hell….I know I sound like a right coward. You're a warrior, mate. You're such a bloody warrior. You've got bigger balls than all of us."

Remus laughed. "I've got no family, Kingsley. No job. Maybe I just have less to lose."

Kingsley took a deep breath and considered his friend. "You deserve a good life as much as anyone, Remus. Everything I said, I believe it, right? But I will consider it. I promise you that. And even if I don't talk, I want to help. Anything you need help with, mate, you let me know."

He put a hand on Remus' shoulder then balled it into a fist and knocked twice gently. "I wouldn't have made it through those first months without your help, you know that, right?"

Remus gave him a light smile and as Kingsley made to go, he hugged Remus roughly but with much affection then walked out the door without looking back.

Remus worked late into the night, finding more unfortunate jobs for small wages before he went to back to Harry's. On the way, he bought ingredients for a hearty potato soup, small recompense for imposing on his godson for seven days, but it was healthy and filling.

When he arrived, Harry was already asleep, but he opted to prepare the meal for tomorrow. Remus boiled the potatoes, made the broth, cut vegetables and herbs for seasoning, all in Muggle fashion as he thought about possible contacts for the forum and the 148 galleons left to earn.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream came from Harry's bedroom. Remus bolted in and immediately tripped over a pile of quidditch equipment strewn across the floor. Harry had come home tired and dumped his things everywhere. And now the sweat-drenched young man flailed madly, caught in a terrible nightmare that wouldn't let go.

Remus grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him carefully. "Harry!"

"No- NO!" Harry screamed as his eyes flew open, his face frozen in a look of utter shock. Finally, his eyes tried to focus on the hazy face in front of him that spoke softly. Sounds and images puddled around him, becoming sharper and more distinct. The person put glasses on his face, and a cool hand touched his skin.

"It's alright, Harry, it was just a dream."

"Remus?" he gasped.

"Yes. It's okay, it was only a dream."

Harry leaned against the headboard and suddenly realized he had Remus' bad arm in a deathgrip and let go.

"It was never just a dream with him," he managed in a shaky voice.

"It is from now on," Remus said, running his hand over Harry's head.

Embarrassed by the dream and what he saw as a less than stellar reaction to it, Harry shrugged away from Remus. "I'm fine. I just…it's been a while since I've…since I've felt him…in my head like that."

Remus nodded. "You've been staying busy, playing a lot of quidditch, throwing yourself into things…it keeps the dreams at bay?"

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "But going back to Hogwarts yesterday…it just…I have memories there, bad memories…It's my home, but…I hadn't been back since…"

Remus spelled a glass of water from the kitchen.

"I understand, Harry….I've never returned to the field where I killed Fenrir. It's too harsh a reminder. But Hogwarts is your home. And once you're there again with your friends and teachers, back to the old schedule….You'll remember all the good times you had there, and make new ones, as well. And it will all overshadow Voldemort. Because he's gone, Harry. He's not coming back. And no matter what you felt when you killed him, you're a good person. Your heart is good. And the world is a much much better place because you're here."

Harry just looked at Remus, almost lulled back to sleep by his gentle words as he lay back down in the bed.

"You want something to eat? Or can you go back to bed. A beacon might help."

"I think I can sleep. A beacon would be nice, though….Sirius conjured one for me once…."

Remus just nodded and conjured a peaceful slumber orb on Harry's nightstand then unconsciously tucked him in before he got up to leave, pushing his hand around the covers then pulling them up under Harry's chin. Harry traced his eyes and tried not to laugh. Remus activated the dream beacon and it began to glow a soft, comforting blue, the slight tinkling of chimes emanating from its core.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked carefully. Harry nodded and mumbled 'yeah' with a slightly embarrassed look on his face.

"If you need anything, just call me."

"'kay."

When he got to the door, Harry called out, "Remus?...Did you just tuck me in?"

Remus traced his eyes then smiled in amusement. "I guess I did. You're way too old for that, I know."

But Harry looked at him earnestly. "No one ever did that for me when I was a kid…tucked me into bed."

"Well, then," Remus said, giving him a sad smile as he turned off the light. "You're never too old to be tucked in for the first time."

"Remus?"

"Mmhm," he said, turning back around and leaning in the doorway, silhouetted by the light of the kitchen.

"You'll make a good father one day, did you know that?"

Remus didn't say anything, his face unreadable in the darkness, but his voice was gentle when he said, "Sweet dreams, Harry," and walked back into the kitchen to stir tomorrow's lunch.

And Harry thought as he passed into comforting dreams, that perhaps Voldemort's appearance _was_ just a nightmare…After all, he had awoken safe in the arms of family.

_**tbc**_

_

* * *

__Author's note:_

_Remus will have an unexpected visitor at Harry's in the next chapter, and word starts leaking out about the forum. Umbridge isn't amused. _

_Thank you for reading and hugs for reviewing. I remain a humble servant to you all, _

_rane _


	9. Day 5

"_A cord of three strands is not easily torn apart."_

_Ecclesiastes _

* * *

"**Day 5"**

Harry woke just before daybreak and shuffled into the kitchen, pulled in by the enticing, lingering smell of his godfather's soup. He rummaged through the refrigerator and dipped his finger in for a taste, raised his eyebrows in approval then found a spoon in the sink and gave it a bigger taste, then another before he returned the metal lid and pulled out bacon and eggs to cook for breakfast.

After the nightmare, he had slept peacefully – a rare occurrence. Many a long night he stayed up until the sun rose, mentally running from the emotional clutches of Voldemort's memory. On those dark hours, sleep became an unthinkable horror that laid him bare to those who would harm him..and things that would control him….memories, moments.

But Remus had made it all okay. He smiled once again over getting tucked in as he cracked eggs into a pan.

Halfway through a large skillet of bacon, Harry imagined he heard tapping but shook it off until he heard the sound again, even louder and more insistent. Looking around, he found the instigator, a large black and brown owl shuffling nervously on his windowsill and holding at least a dozen small scrolls in its talons. When Harry didn't answer as fast as the owl would have liked, it screeched even louder and pecked at the glass.

Harry tore off a large bite of bacon from one sizzling strip and pulled his hand away with a small 'ouch' when the grease burned him. He blew on the piece as he walked to the window and offered it to the grateful owl who clucked in thanks before gulping it down then pulling one scroll from the pile to shove it forward.

Harry leaned against the wall and read:

_To the werewolf staying in the guestroom at 831 Salamander Way, Flat 104:_

_We do have work. If you can't use that arm, don't bother showing. London dock 7 ¾ enter through middle pylon. Set pay 7 galleons per day, 12-13 hour days, 5 days at most, sign the enclosed waiver that absolves us of injury liability, work starts in one hour don't be late._

_Chief Foreman Terrence Duggard_

Harry idly stewed at the quickly scrawled letter until the owl finally goaded him with a small, impatient screech. And so he grabbed for a nearby quill and wrote across the waiver page:

_Chief Foreman Terrence:_

_Go fuck yourself._

_Sincerely,_

_The godson of the werewolf staying at 831 Salamander Way._

"Take him that," Harry said lowly as he tied the paper to the owl's return pile and watched the anxious, overworked messenger fly away with its heavy load of job notices. He leaned on the wall, lost in thought; and when the owl had completely disappeared from sight, he shut the window and went into Remus' room, faint light creeping in through the easterly window, soon to burst forth in a bright, blinding beam across the bed.

Remus lay fully clothed on top of the sheets, exhausted and sleeping deeply. Curled up on his side, his open hand lay near his face; and even in the low light, Harry could see blisters and cuts on the palm. He had huddled near the alarm, hoping not to oversleep and miss any possible work opportunities, but Harry turned off the clock bell decisively then walked over and closed the shutters to block the soon impending stream of morning sunlight.

And he shut the door quietly, letting Remus sleep as long as his body needed.

Two hours later, Tonks wand-opened Harry's flat and walked in tentatively, the owled message from Harry still open in her hand as she removed her work robe and folded it across the kitchen chair.

"Remus?" she called softly then headed toward the spare room, hearing the low hum of water running in the bathroom and through the pipes nestled in the thin walls. Tonks collapsed on the bed and idly rubbed her cheek on his pillow as she listened to the shower water fall. The droplets sounded shallow for a minute then hit the tiles, and she heard a light plunk…Remus returning a plastic shampoo bottle to the glass shelf.

Tonks immediately considered taking off her clothes and joining him. She wanted to. Badly. But how would he react, after everything that had passed between them…and everything that had passed them by…

They'd shared a bath once in the small clawfoot tub at Grimmauld, and Tonks felt her heart smile at the memory. Such a small tub. It hardly had room for him let alone two people; but she had joined him nonetheless. And it had provided one of the best laughs they'd both had in ages. Tonks just told him that in times of war, it was important to conserve water…and bath oil.

But before the bath was over, neither of them was laughing as they slowly discovered one another, desperate to touch and feel and hold onto something real and wondrous – a moment of pure connection. He had wrapped her in a towel and carried her to bed. And that night, they shared their second night together, five long weeks and four days after their first. Because in times of war, relationships often fell by the wayside.

And in times like the present, war lingered long after headlines announced it had ended….

Perhaps the entire house (or at least those who knew) had written them off as two people seeking solace in war; but Sirius had known better..and Molly. And she and Remus had both recognized it as so much more than simple comfort.

But what would it be now? To approach him when he was so desperate to diminish from her life? She found that she didn't really care to put a name on something she wanted so desperately.

Remus might say she lived in a moment of simple despair when she claimed that she would never love again, would never give her heart to another. But he underestimated her. And people usually came to regret that…or in Remus' case, perhaps he would find reprieve instead of regret.

Tonks smiled. Because she knew him better than he realized. And she knew that for all of his power, he ran out of fear. But she had nothing to fear from him…and although he couldn't understand it, he nothing to fear from her, either. Fighting their love created nothing but pain, and _that_ was the moment of despair they lived in, the moment that clouded real judgment. She realized, for the first time, that he had the whole thing backwards.

Tonks sat up to pull off her brown jumper and had just started on the t-shirt underneath when the water stopped.

"Bugger." She pulled her t-shirt back down and sat on her hands, allowing herself a devious smile.

Dripping wet with a maroon towel wrapped around his waist, a werewolf lost in thought opened the door to immediately hear, "WOTCHER, REMUS!" He started heavily and slammed the door, banging his knee in the process. Tonks felt bad for smiling and covered her mouth in amused shame.

"Sorry," she called in a sympathetic voice. She could imagine him on the other side of the door, catching his breath; and after a beat, he cracked the door and peered out.

"Nymphadora, you'll be the death of me," he murmured in exasperation. And he could hear the mischief in her voice when she asked innocently, "You didn't smell me come in?"

"Water masks scent. I heard someone come in but thought it was Harry."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "He wanted me to come over and make sure you didn't leave while he went to Gringott's."

When Remus just looked at her curiously and leaned against the wall, still hiding partially behind the bathroom door, she continued with a bit of hesitation.

"He's withdrawing money from Sirius' bank account for the forum fee."

Remus shook his head. "I should pay the fee."

"By doing heavy manual labor for a pittance?" she shot back, hurt evident in her voice.

When he just looked at her defensively, she added. "You had four owls come by this morning with crappy job offers. And Harry saw the forum application on your nightstand…and he saw your hand."

"Did he turn my alarm off?" he asked sharply.

"I'm not sure."

Remus looked away from her and focused on the scratched paint of the door's edge.

"Harry wants to do this for both you _and_ Sirius. You two…you had an amazing friendship. He loved you. And for some reason, you would let Sirius help you, even when you refused help from others. I don't claim to understand, but…Harry just thought you might not fight it as much if the money came from Sirius."

"Sirius is _not_ here, Tonks," Remus reprimanded quietly.

"But Sirius would want to pay this as much as Harry does," she insisted. "And whether it's Sirius' money or Harry's, who cares, Remus! It's just money, for Merlin's sake. What's that compared to fighting the system?"

While he only shimmied the door nervously with his foot, she added, "It _was_ seven days, wasn't it? Seven days you promised us? This is what, day four?"

"It's…it's five," he admitted, quietly. Remus had surprised himself by keeping a tally, not because it was some sort of punishment…but because he had become so emotionally comfortable here, and he didn't want it to end. He truly didn't…

"Seven days of being open to good things, of letting people help you. And to see you smile again, to hear you laugh…." she said, melancholy evident in her voice. "These last few days, they're the first in a very long time that I haven't worried about you… although I should, with everything that's going on. But I just know, at night, that you're here…you're safe. Don't take that away by doing terrible work when there's such a simple alternative." She still sat on the bed, picking idly at a piece of skin on her thumb and looking at him hopefully.

But she seemed so exhausted, so unlike herself. Was he doing this? "You shouldn't worry about me, Tonks. I don't," he said, but after a very long pause he added with soft hesitation. "But I worry about you."

"Well, then, we both think alike, don't we?" For a moment, he stood perfectly still, leaning on the doorjam with only his face visible and she felt a need to lighten the mood. "So how long are you going to hide behind that door, hm?" she asked playfully. "There's nothing back there I haven't seen, you know."

But he winced as he managed in a low, delicate voice, "Yes, there is."

And Tonks' smile suddenly fell away when she realized….she _hadn't_ seen him since his tenure with Greyback's pack, since his days of pure and complete destitution, since London City Holding…

Mild panic flickered in his face when she got up and walked towards him, her eyes never leaving his until she came near; and he dropped his head downward and leaned against the wall as she slowly pushed the door open.

Remus self-consciously shuffled backward until the counter stopped him, but she took his hand, her thumb softly rubbing the palm as she searched for his attention. Head still downward, he managed to look up at her briefly but warily, fear of rejection heavy set in a face he struggled to keep neutral.

Shower steam still clung heavily to the warm room as she trailed her gaze over his war-torn body, a harsh record of everything he had suffered at the hands of their world. His arm was worse than she had imagined, and she swallowed at torn and twisted skin where the arm met his shoulder.

But Tonks touched it gently with no fear, breathing in the aftershave and mint soap that lingered on his lithe, ravaged body. She hurt for the physical pain he had endured and for the sadness she saw in his downcast eyes. But how could he not understand that she still found him beautiful?

Oh, he would realize soon enough…Because having the only man she would ever love so fully standing before her, trusting her with his insecurity; her pulse raced, her body responded with a warmth and heat she couldn't stop.

And Remus looked up at her in near amazement, the arousal he could sense in her igniting an ever present ember within his heart, the one he kept only for her, the one he hid out of fear.

When her fingers trailed downward in the barest graze to touched his chest, he immediately dipped his head, mouth slightly open and closing upon hers in a slow, earnest kiss. And Tonks moved her hands to the knot in his towel, realizing how badly she wanted to taste his skin, to bring him pleasure after everything that had hurt him.

But almost immediately, the door flew open and Harry's voice traveled two seconds behind his eyes.

"I'm back, but I had to… Woh!….uhm, hey, look I can go and….I could go and come back later, okay?"

Remus could feel Tonks' smile against his chest as she dropped her head in amused defeat. And he let out a hoarse, self-deprecating laugh and said, "It's alright, Harry." He took his hand from Tonks' back and put the palm out towards the wardrobe closet, which opened and sent a handful of clothes flying to him.

Then he dropped a soft, lingering kiss on the side of Tonks' lips and walked her backwards a few steps out of the bathroom, his eyes never leaving hers; but as he made to close the door, she saw a huge grin erupt on his face.

It was a step.

Harry quickly turned the color of his Gryffindor jumper, and he just grinned broadly at Tonks as he said, with real embarrassment, "Sorry about that, Tonks."

She flashed her eyebrows at Harry as they went into the kitchen. "So am I," she laughed. "But I think part of the barrier just crashed down."

Over Remus' potato soup and a fresh pot of tea, they watched him fill out the application and check it several times.

"They'll look for anything. If it's not filled out correctly, they can throw it out, and I won't be able to apply for another thirty days," Remus explained.

"Have you heard anything from Snape?" Tonks asked.

When Remus just shook his head as he folded the form and put it in the envelope, Harry added, "We should turn it in now anyway. We'll have something to present, even if we don't talk about the possibility of a wolfsbane program."

Remus was sensing a trend. "We?" he said with a small smile.

"Yeah," Harry said mock defensively. His eyebrows knitted, but a smile played on his face. "As in the three of us, the Civil Rights League, the signers of the petition, the majority of the London Auror Force, the entire werewolf population of England, most of their families, and any speakers you have planned."

Remus looked at them both quietly, and Harry pulled the bank note out of his jeans pocket and passed it to Remus, his face tight as he anticipated an argument he desperately wanted to avoid.

Remus didn't take his eye off Harry as the young man slid the note timidly across the table. And after a moment, Remus looked down at it, eyes lingering on it as he swallowed then nodded, biting on his lower lip. He looked up at Harry carefully before he reached over the table to squeeze his shoulder.

"Thank you," he said softly.

And Harry beamed.

Walking down the shiny wet pavement to the Ministry of Magic building, they stopped at the War Memorial. When Muggles walked by, they found only a large fountain with dolphins and a large mythical sea serpent that spouted water through its mouth; but the three magical folk now stood amidst tall stone walls engraved with the names and dates of those who had fallen.

Remus stared at the envelope in his hands, sealed with a large dollop of dark blue wax and embossed with an old wax stamp that bore a large "L" along with "_virtus, sapientia, fides_" around the perimeter…his father's seal…one of the few things he could recover from his family's burned home when he finally had the strength to return after the war had ended.

He touched the hardened, shining seal then looked around him, at the names engraved in the stark stone wall to memorialize those who had lost their lives in both wars. James and Lily so close to the top… and much farther down Sirius, Albus….Tonks' mother, Andromeda, who had loved him dearly…and far too many others that he recognized.

Tonks studied a nearby wall and commented quietly about the number of aurors; and Harry sat on top of a stone bench, arms around his knees as he watched Remus walk back to them slowly, hands in pockets and surrounded on both sides by the austere acknowledgement of all those who had passed on behalf of the war. Suddenly Harry found himself thinking not of those who had died but of those who had survived and lost their lives nonetheless…

Who would remember them? Where was the acknowledgement for Hermione and Seamus and many others who lost their minds to dark magic in the flower of their youth? His brave, intelligent friend….his cheeky, mischievous schoolmate…they were both gone. They had fallen on grey ground, unlauded in their sacrifices. Like Remus in that respect but with less hope of deliverance.

And where was the acknowledgement for Snape, who was so pivotal in helping end the war but who hid in his refuge near the sea because strangers spat on him when he walked in public. Harry didn't know the word for what Snape needed, but he deserved better.

He knew there was little hope for Seamus. None for Hermione. Snape would find his niche again and if he didn't, he'd scorn the world and move on anyway. But what about Remus? As he continued to muse, the man in question finally stood before him, the envelope now sticking out of a frayed pocket on his brown woolen coat.

"Let's go to the Ministry of Magic," he said decisively.

Remus wasn't allowed in the building and so when they arrived, Harry took the form from Remus' pocket and hurriedly bound up the long row of stone stairs and through the brass revolving doors. When he reached the central mail tunnel for the massive building, he dropped the small envelope in and watched the tornado inside whirlwind it to the top floor and to the Ministry of Magic mail distribution center. In a few minutes, it would be on the bitch's desk….Harry thought of all the injustices Remus and others had suffered because of this woman. And his hatred grew.

"Come and get it," he said matter-of-factly before he walked outside, hands in pockets as he told them both, "It's in. All we can do is wait to hear."

Remus looked at up at the building entrance carefully. "Merlin, but I have a lot of work to do."

"_W_e have a lot of work to do," Tonks corrected him with a smile.

And Remus nodded, then looked down, almost shyly. When she reached up to kiss him, Harry looked away with a grin.

The young man searched the busy streets for a moment before announcing suddenly, "I think I'll go to St. Mungo's to see Hermione."

After a bit of silence, Remus asked softly, "Do you want us to go with you?"

Harry considered that option for a moment but seemed fine with his decision when he said, "I think I should go alone. She doesn't know I'm there, but…I'd like to go see her, tell her everything that's been going on. Ron and I try to keep her updated…even if we do it more for ourselves than…well..even if it helps us more than her…I know I've avoided going by lately, because I think of that day when I see her, but…maybe forgetting is not always best," he said with a smile, repeating Remus' advice to him from a few days ago.

Remus just nodded, a hint of fatherly concern in his face.

"Let us know if you need anything, okay?" Tonks said, squeezing his hand as he made to leave. And Harry headed down the street then walked backward a few steps, drinking in the view of the two of them standing together and looking so right side by side.

"You don't have to bring him home tonight, you know," Harry called with a devilish grin.

And Tonks laughed and yelled back, "Maybe, I won't!" before Harry waved then turned to disappear amidst the heavy foot traffic.

Campbell Sturgeon, clerk and personal assistant to the head of the Ministry of Magic's Post-war Reparation Division, walked down the dark hall, his polished shoes clicking on the hard black tile, his hands shaking as he threw another worrisome glance at the forum request. Minister Umbridge wouldn't like this. She'd be most unhappy…and when Umbridge was unhappy….A shudder ran through his body at the thought.

The password "_decontamination_" allowed him entrance to Umbridge's plush, comfortable office where he found her humming daintily as she scratched out a long note on custom-embossed pink parchment. _Probably another felony list for the auror force to round up_. Campbell had always found it rather macabre that she sent veritable death sentences on perfumed pink paper. He stood for quite a while, mesmerized by the messy scratching of her quill.

"HehHehHehem…" Umbridge finally dipped her head and eyed her assistant over lowered bifocals, causing a large goiter of neck fat to bulge out around her chin.

"Mister Sturgeon," she began sweetly. "Will you be spending the rest of your day standing in my doorway, or do you have something to give me?"

"I have a forum request, Minister Umbridge," he said with a swallow and quickly walked forward to put it on the edge of her desk then backed away.

Pushing away from her desk and crossing one squat leg over the other, she let out a sing-song sigh and put the note in her lap then brushed at her pink, fuzzy sweater, making it obvious that she was foregoing more important matters to provide him with quality attention.

"Dear, you've been so jumpy lately. Is there anything I can do?"

"No, ma'am."

"Female troubles? Office dynamic difficulties?...Perhaps someone in the framework needs a private moment with me to discuss loyalties, purpose, the overall aim of the Post-war Reparation Division?"

Sturgeon's eyes went wide. Everyone in the office had suffered light torture of one sort or another at Umbridge's fat little hands. One didn't simply get written up in this office. They were written _into_. A pound of flesh was not just a literary fancy on the 32nd floor of the Ministry of Magic building.

"N-n-nno, Ma'am."

His stutter was back…along with his nervous twitch. Umbridge pursed her lips and put on her most polished voice of reprimand.

"Mister Sturgeon, after I read this forum request, I want you to return to your desk and think about the value of helping yourself and others by telling me when there are problems that need to be addressed. Like yourself, I've been appointed to create a cleaner, more structured world after this war. And we can't do this properly if there are internal issues of one sort of another. Do you understand, dear?"

He nodded emphatically, starting to feel clammy moisture taint his shirt collar.

"Hemhem…now" Umbridge adjusted her glasses then clumsily unfolded the application with her chubby, ring-laden fingers. After perusing the forum request for a very heavy minute, she seemed to sense that a remark was due and burst forth in a saccharin voice, "Why, our most notable dangerous creature has some interesting plans, it seems!" She looked up at Campbell with a false smile plastered across her toad-like face.

"What do you think of this, Mister Sturgeon?" she asked lightly.

Campbell felt his knees shake. He immediately thought of his brother Tom, bitten during the war and later killed by Fenrir for refusing to turn; and he knew his anger with dark creatures was grossly misdirected in the work he now performed. He had wanted to help "control" the werewolf problem, but he had become little more than a footstool for this terribly malevolent woman. Umbridge slithered her way through death ceremonies, inquisitions and arrest warrants with a sweetness and light that was everything her soul wasn't.

He considered how to answer…His mind said one thing, his pragmaticism said quite another. He was disgusted by his fear of her…but now wasn't the time for bravado…or …or maybe it was..

"I think….uhm….Minister Umbridge, I…I think that people having their say is part of the system. And even if he doesn't get what he wants, it's important for the Ministry to hear his ideas."

Umbridge's face was all smiles, but her shrinking pupils showed her thoughts lingered elsewhere.

"I see, Mister Sturgeon. A radical thinker all along." She beamed and tilted her head to the side in a poor attempt at charm. "You know, we have quite a few files to go through over here, you see," she said, gesturing broadly to the corner. "Perhaps you could stay after work for a few hours today and go over them?"

"The tainted files?" he asked timidly. "The ones from the Deatheater underground?"

"Yes, I'm afraid our last dark arts specialist could only handle A through H, so there's still quite a few letters to go!" she sang merrily. "But it will be good practice for you. I always like to make sure my charges have plenty of opportunities to better themselves."

"Yes, ma'am," Campbell croaked.

"Now off with you while I make plans for Mister Lupin's little forum! Thank you for delivering it in such a timely fashion, dear," she said softly and batted him away with her hand.

Campbell clutched his hands together convulsively and made a small bow as he headed for the hall like a man about to lose his lunch.

After her assistant's hasty retreat, Umbridge studied the application with ever-narrowing eyes; and something bubbled below her thin veneer of pleasantry when she finally spoke to herself.

"Quite in-te-rest-ing…quite interesting indeed. Mister too-good-for-the-waiver was offered more than he deserved. And now he throws my kind-hearted gesture back in my face…by making waves. Mm..mm..mm, what a tragedy. Wreaking his havoc in our schools…and now disrupting the flow of our government as it tries to rebuild. How unpatriotic. Reason number one, Dolores, on why these dangerous creatures must be controlled…They have no rationale…"

Umbridge tried to maintain her frozen smile but lost the battle. Her bottom lip trembled like a plate of gelatin when she set the paper on fire with her wand and shrieked with a frighteningly fast surge of hatred, "NONE what-so-EVER!"

At that very moment on the crowded streets below, a very different world unfolded.

Remus walked through the restaurant district with Tonks, feeling oddly content and comfortable in his own skin. She wrapped his arm around her shoulders as drops of rain began to splatter the pavement.

"Rain…" she said, looking up with a laugh that sounded very much like the Tonks he remembered, the one full of color and life. "I love the rain…but you don't need to get caught in this." She tugged him towards a dark alley so they could apparate, but he stopped under a store's sagging canvas awning and pulled her back to him.

Amusement danced in Tonks' eyes when she realized he didn't want to leave. "I won't have you catching cold on me, professor."

Remus looked at her for a long moment then chastely kissed her captured hand, his uncovered eye never leaving hers. When Tonks stepped closer, searching his face, he leaned forward to gently caress her lips with his before pulling her close and resting his cheek in her mouse-brown hair. She worked her way through the fold of his coat, closing her eyes as she relished the warmth of his skin through the thin oxford shirt, his heart beating steadily against the soft skin of her cheek. And her arms trailed under the heavy fabric and around his back as she breathed him in, feeling whole and content in his arms.

Passersby scrambled erratically around them in a frantic effort to avoid the impending rain. Some looked curiously at Remus and Tonks in passing; and although both felt the stares of strangers, they didn't part.

Remus rarely showed affection in public. He was a private person, but he found way too many aspects of his life now governed by public domain. He lived in a world that singled him out, set him aside as undesirable; and he knew that he had come to play a similarly harsh game in his own mind.

But in that very moment, Remus didn't see himself as destitute, disabled, or marked by fate. He wasn't a werewolf forbidden by law to marry, to have children.

He was simply a man in a shabby wool coat, holding his lover as the rain began to fall.

_tbc_

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_Author's Note: Coming up, "The Daily Prophet" causes trouble, and the ring resurfaces. _

_Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! You guys keep this thing going for me._

_cheers, _

_rane_


	10. Day 6

"_True peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice."_

_Martin Luther King, Jr. _

_

* * *

__Author's Note: This chapter contains moderate but brief sexual content. _

"**Day Six"**

Remus woke to the muffled remnants of a sharp exchange occurring in the other room and sleepily wandered in to find Harry standing in front of the fireplace, a strangled copy of _The Daily Prophet _in one tight fist as he talked into the opening. When he saw his godfather, he started slightly.

"Remus, I thought you stayed at Tonks' last night." Harry's face was angry, but Remus could tell it wasn't directed at him.

He just lowered his eyes for a moment and shook his head. "No…you weren't here when I got in…I didn't hear you come home."

"I came in late," Harry said in a tight voice then immediately looked back into the fireplace. "Will you talk to him, professor?"

Curious, Remus closed his tattered robe and walked over to the fireplace, looked in to find McGonagall's head peering through the flames.

"Oh, Remus, you're here! Well, as I'm sure you're well aware, I've wanted to talk to you for some time now, young man."

_Young man_….Remus had to smile..

"I'm sorry Minerva. I was waiting to see if there'd be any fallout regarding my reinstatement."

He looked over at Harry, who seemed barely in control, a muscle working furiously in his cheek as Minerva managed to reply, "Yes, well….I hope….Remus, I do hope you don't take this twaddle too seriously. _The_ _Daily Prophet_ has been a useless rag for quite some time now, and you shouldn't assume that the opinions expressed in it are necessarily the opinions of the general populace."

"I see," Remus said quietly. "The new faculty list made the Sunday paper, and they showed glowing support for a werewolf teacher, I gather?"

Minerva prodded on, her tremulous, clipped voice carrying a hint of reprimand. "Remus, I want you to think about all the ridiculous things _The Prophet_ has supported over the last seven years. And when you do, alongside the blatant truth of matters, I think you'll find they've grossly misreported just about everything that's occurred in our world. And people know this. They have very little respect for Rita Skeeter and _The Prophet_. And employment laws are in the process of changing, we'll see to that."

"I'll read the article, Minerva," he promised.

McGonagall hesitated then added as she made to leave, "Remus, please do come by to see me when you visit Hogwarts…or…perhaps I'll have to come see you." She looked quite flustered as her face disappeared from the flames.

Harry stood beside him still looking into the empty fireplace, mouth tightly clamped shut, his ears red in anger.

"Harry…" Remus pulled the paper out of his tight hand without removing his eyes from the young man. "Let's sit down. Come on."

Harry walked stiffly to the kitchen table and sat down at it; and Remus sat across from him. He gauged his godson carefully for a minute before he started to sift through _The_ _Prophet_, looking for the article. Harry calmed down a bit, his eyes fixed on the registry number burned into Remus' bare chest, the edge of it visible through the fold of his robe.

"It's like they can't stop marking you, like they single you out in every way they can. You're….just a man, you know?"

"Just a man?" he laughed. "If only, Harry."

"I mean…except for full moons…It's just that…" Remus was a bit surprised to see Harry's eyes water around the edges. It had to be more than the article in the paper.

"Did everything go okay yesterday? When you went to see Hermione?"

Harry's face suddenly went suddenly cold, as if he resented the topic. Finally, he shrugged, pent-up anger evident in his voice. "As okay as it gets to see one of your best friends living the life of a conscious vegetable."

After a beat of silence, Remus asked, "How long had it been since you'd seen her?"

Harry shrugged again then admitted quietly, "48 days."

Remus closed the paper and looked at him carefully, but Harry shook his head and said, "Remus, it's not what's bothering me. It's this. All of this. These people who never let up." He pushed at one of the loose _Prophet_ leaves.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower and get dressed. And I'll make you some breakfast."

When Harry didn't say anything, just sat looking at an indeterminate spot on the kitchen baseboards, Remus continued.

"Do you want an omelet? I saw you had some brown eggs from that new farmer's market in Hogsmeade."

Harry finally got up, rubbing irritatingly at one eyebrow.

"But make one for yourself, too, okay?" He looked at his godfather with a bit of concern, but Remus gave him a small, encouraging smile and pushed at his arm.

"Go shower. You'll feel better for it."

When Harry had left, Remus' brows knotted as he began sorting through the paper to find the article in question. It wasn't hard to locate. They hadn't placed it in the "back to school" section but across the front page, along with a photo of Umbridge talking seriously over her bifocals as two men in black stood behind her, still as stone. A small photo with the byline showed Rita Skeeter and her self-scribbling quill hard at work for the masses, probing for pertinent news and asking all the right questions.

**_

* * *

_****_HOGWARTS ATTEMPTS TO REINSTATE DANGEROUS DARK CREATURE AS D.A.D.A. PROFESSOR_**

According to the officially released Hogwarts faculty and staff roster, The Defense Against the Dark Arts Position, so badly filled for the last decade, will once again be manned (and we use that term loosely) by a dangerous dark creature.

Yes, dear readers, Hogwarts is currently attempting to reinstate werewolf Remus Lupin, the Lycanthrope who darkened Hogwarts halls five years ago while working under the same position. Most, if not all, citizens will remember that Mr. Lupin was unable to control his condition and eventually wreaked havoc on the student population, nearly killing three Gryffindors and injuring a fellow faculty member.

Yesterday evening, Dolores Umbridge, Minister of the Post-War Reparation Committee, made a public announcement regarding the new Hogwarts school roster. (Ms. Umbridge wore a smashing pink and green ensemble with matching purse and shoes, courtesy of Glad Wear Wizard Rags.) We have included her statement it in its entirety:

"During this time of war, many, like myself, are fighting to help rebuild our world and create a safe and clean haven for children and adults alike. I am shocked and disgusted by Hogwarts' apparent lack of judgment in choosing a dark creature, not once but TWICE, as a faculty member for its children.

This decision is not only audacious but illegal. I remind the Hogwarts' board of directors and its new headmistress, that under statute 7.8A-C, dark creatures may not be employed full-time by any public, private, or government-based establishment within the borders of magical England.

Should they choose to continue with this reinstatement, those involved will be fined and charged with felony obstruction. The fine is significant, and Azkaban jail time is inferred for any one person or group who supports this reinstatement and/or allows it to occur for as much as one day.

We have sent the dark creature in question, Remus John Lupin III, a notice stating that he will not set foot on the grounds of Hogwarts or come within 300 meters of its perimeter. And he will be fitted with a monitoring spell to track his movement until we can ensure that the position has indeed been filled by a capable and proper wizard or witch, and the school season has begun.

To all those concerned about the future of our children, I promise that I will be watching Hogwarts with great alacrity and care over the next year. As former High Inquisitor, I was privy to many shortcomings within our school system that should be rectified; and I'm sure, in the future, we will discover many more. Rest assured, all matters that hinder the safety and growth of our youth will be dealt with accordingly by the Ministry of Magic and its subcommittees and organizations."

Ms. Umbridge's statement was received with applause and much flag waving by the group "Citizens for a Better Tomorrow," who attend many of the Ministry's press conferences regarding the legislation of post-war magical England.

We at _The Daily Prophet_ are personally outraged by this illegal and unsafe faculty choice on the part of Hogwarts and encourage letters of protest to both the school and the Ministry. People may also sign a petition at the Post-War Reparation Conference being held at the Ministry of Magic building on the 19th of this month.

* * *

Remus let out a breath he had unknowingly held as he read the article. He rolled up the pages of parchment thoughtfully and finally laughed and shook his head. He should have known better. What little part of him had thought there wouldn't be a backlash? What was Minerva thinking? 

He got up and pulled a pan from the cabinet and removed eggs, butter, and a large chunk of mozzarella.

As he mechanically made the omelets, his mind raced. Would continuing to stay with Harry put the young man in danger? Why hadn't the aurors shown up to fit him with a monitor? Was Umbridge doing this to find a way to block the forum?...Would the article raise the already escalating level of generic hatred against his kind?

His mind wandered off for a moment, and he ignored the crackle of searing heat working at the eggs in the pan. He should leave. Harry….Tonks….and many others he knew…In general, they were an emotional house of cards, the stability of their lives in tenuous balance. And it would take so little to see it come crashing down. He didn't want to be the unsteady hand that destroyed it, the card constantly swaying in the wind that caused the downfall of all the others.

Harry came out of the bathroom, black hair fighting the dampness and struggling to once again pop out in all different directions.

Remus muttered "_accio_ plate" and deftly caught the quickly hurled object without raising his head and slid the omelet out of the pan just as Harry came over to him. He retrieved a fork and leaned on the counter by Remus, chopping at the crispy edge of the omelet.

"You okay?"

Harry nodded, head down and chewing. "Did you read the article?" he finally asked when he swallowed the bite and then didn't take another, suddenly losing his appetite and putting down the fork.

"Eat."

"I'm not hungry," he said quietly as Remus slid the second omelet onto a plate then picked up both plates in one hand and nudged Harry toward the kitchen table. He put the omelet in front of Harry and sat down across from him. Remus stared at his breakfast and realized he couldn't eat now, either.

"I read the article….It was inevitable, really. No surprises….but I do wonder why the aurors haven't contacted me about Umbridge's monitoring spell ….and why a monitoring spell instead of a restraining one? The only reason she would do that is to create a trap, to have me go someplace I'm not "allowed" without telling me beforehand that the place is restricted…not give me the restrictions then arrest me based on them. She's using this as a reason to watch me about the forum."

Harry looked stunned. "Merlin…I didn't even think of that. Knowing Umbridge, it makes total sense. But no one has come by looking for you, no aurors. Do you think she was just bluffing?"

"She has no reason to. The aurors answer to her."

Immediately, a heavy knock sounded at the door and they both turned to stare at it. Harry finally got up to answer the door and found Kingsley Shacklebolt on the other side, looking highly uncomfortable.

"Hey, Harry…..Remus is here, yeah?"

Harry looked at him carefully for a moment then turned to look at Remus, who gave him a nod as he opened the door.

"Remus, mate."

Shacklebolt lumbered in casually and ran his eyes across Harry's flat. "A right bachelor pad, Harry."

He nodded his approval in a way that one man admires another man for total lack of aesthetic. And Harry readily agreed. Just a place to crash and not much more to it.

But the sudden silence in the room was deafening and finally Kinglsey cleared his throat and pocketed a pack of cigarettes that he had handled nervously since he entered. The minute they were safely buttoned in his chest pocket, he put loose hands on his hips, sucked lightly on his upper lip as his blue eyes went to Remus.

"You've read the front page?"

Remus nodded wordlessly.

"So…uhm…Mate, I'm here to put a monitoring spell on you….but between you and me, Umbridge doesn't have direct access to the spell's feed. If there's something you have to do for the forum, do it. Tonks and I will pull anything out that she won't like….."

Kingsley shifted on his feet and let out a heavy laugh.

"She's on the way over here, Tonks. You should have seen her this morning….She twisted off after she read that article, stormed out the door. It took four aurors to stop her from going to pound that toad into the ground……Anyway, Moody's talking to her right now about patience being next to vigilance or some shite he really doesn't agree with to try and rein her in a bit. She was right livid."

Remus smiled, looking not at Kingsley but at the scattered papers on the table; and the room went dead quiet again before Remus asked, "Kingsley, has the Committee told you exactly where I was prohibited to go, aside from Hogwarts? Have they given you a list?"

Kingsley shook his head then stiffened in realization. "She's setting you up…..That bitch." Kingsley ran a hand over his bald pate and said, "What if we say you've been sick and holed up here at Harry's?"

"It won't work. I run into LCH employees all over London."

Kingsley quickly added, "But a disillusionment charm would get you from here to there. Or you could conjure a double at a central location, and we could spell the double."

"Kingsley, do you really think she won't request a direct feed? Or be suspicious if the double never left?...It's quite possible that she's trying to kill two birds with one stone. Catch me and the auror force both. You know she's wanted to have her own law enforcement dispatch for quite some time now instead of working through the aurors. And if she caught the London auror force manipulating records for an official investigation…"

Kingsley shrugged. "It makes sense. And I know the best thing we could do to piss her off is follow orders if she wants to catch us red-handed. But what options do you have if you don't conjure a double? Live with the bloody monitoring spell?"

"Perhaps," Remus said quietly, mind racing.

Kingsley shifted on his feet, stuffed nervous hands in his pockets and bit at the corner of his mouth in thought. "Let me permanently spell a double for you, Lupin. That way if they figure it out, the auror force can just say they didn't know. It'd make me look like an idiot for not recognizing a double, but at least it'd fall on one person instead of the force as a whole…."

"No, that wouldn't be right. That's not fair to you." Remus was exhausted by more insanity than anyone should have to experience before a cup of morning caffeine. He tapped on the table and finally said, "Kingsley, can I ask a favor?"

"Anything," he immediately answered. And Remus could tell that he meant it.

"Could you put off the spell for one more day? Put it on in the morning instead? I have people I need to talk to, places to go; and Umbridge wouldn't approve of any of it….I'll get as much done in one day as I can."

Kingsley's eyes told Remus that he was relieved to do something, anything, after their conversation just a few days ago.

"You've got it, mate….Maybe Hogwarts will find someone new fast, and-"

Harry broke in with, "There's still three weeks 'til school starts, Kingsley, and the Lycanthropy forum happens in two. After the forum, the rules will change, and Remus can teach. McGonagall isn't looking for a new professor."

Kingsley swallowed then looked at Remus. He was thankful to not see any judgment in his friend's face.

"Tomorrow morning then. I'll just say I've been tied up at work, hadn't had the time to chase down lanky werewolves and fit them with babysittin' spells," he said with a wicked smile.

Kingsley walked over to Remus in two broad steps and slapped his shoulder as he searched his pocket for the pack of smokes, then he put a cigarette in his mouth and quickly moved towards the door. But his hand lingered on the knob for a moment and he half-turned to Remus.

"I'll come by to talk to you one night, Lupin. Since you'll be here and all. Some things we should talk about, I think."

"You'll know where to find me," Remus said with a hint of dark humor.

Kingsley gauged the werewolf's dark smile before he barked out a low laugh and shook his head.

"Fuckin' beuracrats. They'll be the death of us all, mate."

"Perhaps they will," Remus answered simply.

And Kingsley stared at him for a moment before pulling his anxious gaze away to fix on Harry and reached over to shake the young man's hand.

"Good seeing you, Harry. Remus. Gotta run."

Remus gave him a brief wave and Harry slowly shut the door behind the auror. When he sat back down at the table, Remus immediately said, "I don't know if it's a good idea for me to stay here with everything that's going on."

But Harry's response was quick and resolute. "You think that matters to me? You think because we have two reporters outside now instead of one, I'd rather not have you here?"

Suddenly, Harry looked like something dawned on him, and he didn't like the thought. "Does this…I mean, more than anything, does it have something to do with that deal we made?"

"Deal?"

"Well…tomorrow will be day seven, of that deal we made last week…on the mountain. Were you planning on leaving anyway?"

When Remus didn't say anything and just looked a bit uncomfortable, Harry said with a hint of desperation, "Please stay. I mean, just because the seven days are up or because you're worried about reporters or Ministry spies or whatever….I want….this should be your home. We're blood now…..right?"

A heavy tension fell on the kitchen. Remus looked at the scattered _Daily Prophet _pages in front of them, the remnants of a cold breakfast neither of them could force down alongside vestiges of a normal day-to-day life. Discount coupons for a quidditch game, a school supply list from Flourish and Blotts, reminders of a mundane week in the lives of others…but not theirs…

Remus felt a tightness growing at the very center of his body as he felt Harry's eyes on him, but he spent a long moment nonetheless considering where he had come from and where he was going.

He had played an odd game with himself for most of his adult life. He provided services, worked hard, helped others, tried to stay as busy as possible. People came to him when they needed things -- advice or a service; and he acted accordingly. But he had never assumed that people really needed _him_. He was like a Muggle vending machine, something to be dispensed on request.

Remus had never fully accepted or understood the idea that people might help him because they cared for him as a person. And the part of his psyche that shut off in order to emotionally survive had rarely admitted that he helped others because he cared for them, as well. Helping was just the right thing to do, the civilized thing to do…..What a cold, detached reality he had lived…

But at Grimmauld, Sirius had changed things. Remus had stayed in the moldy, austere domicile to watch over his oldest friend and had eventually accepted that he did so not out of duty or a sense of rightness but out of love.

And that emotional realization had opened the door for Nymphadora, had allowed him, for the first time in his life, to truly love, to give both his body and soul to another. He was made whole by Nymphadora…illuminated by her….But all the growth, the evolution within him fostered by his friends and his lover…the war had smothered it, pulled it from the clutches of his spirit…and now, when he least expected it, it had resurfaced…broken but not lost.

"Remus?"

A few days ago, he might have fallen into old habits by using Harry's possible need as a mechanical excuse to stay when, in actuality, he needed his godson just as badly.

"Harry…thank you for putting me up these past few days.….I've let a lot of things go…or at least I'm on the road to it, and…I don't think that would have happened without you and Nymphadora….."

Remus felt his heart pound with the tension of discussing things he tried so hard to avoid. He looked away with a deep breath and tried to find some center of control.

"Early in the war…I know things were tense, but I learned to…" He sighed and shook his head. "I was….whole….finally…and then we lost Sirius…the war escalated and I went undercover…the new laws….everything. I felt like a fool for ever believing in something better. And it's bloody awful timing for me to put faith in good things again…the worst of times, really, because I can't lose this again. I'll never get it back."

Remus laughed.

"I'm not making any sense, am I."

"You make perfect sense," Harry said with a winsome smile, knowing how hard it was to be emotionally open and love when wariness had served so well, so often. To give your heart despite a history that showed despair and regret in the wake of such an act time and time again. Whether Remus realized it or not, eleven years with the Dursley's had helped Harry understand Remus' world better than he could imagine.

"I don't want to be selfish, to pull you and Tonks into this by staying in London."

Harry answered with a hard, direct voice, "Whether all this bloody mess turns out to be bitter or sweet, we're not going anywhere. Can you get that?"

Remus just looked at him, worry evident in his face.

"Remus, please stay."

Before he could answer, there was a growing, loud whooshing noise, and Tonks stumbled clumsily out of the fireplace and caught herself on the back of the sofa. She let out a laugh of almost comic hysteria.

"Bloody hell! Reporters in there! Three of 'em, spelled and flitting about in the floo chute like snockered garden gnomes."

She closed the floo network with a flick of her wand, and they heard a trailing, communal "aaaaaaahhh!" followed and by one "bollocks!" as the reporters were whirlwinded back to their respective home offices.

"Are you alright?"

Remus hadn't actually been awake that long; and he realized, here he sat in scruffy old boxers and a ratty robe, no shirt, no eyepatch (she'd chastise him about that), with what one could kindly call five o'clock shadow.

In an odd way, he and Tonks were going through a second courtship of sorts; and although he wasn't vain, he didn't enjoy getting caught like this.

Little did he know that in spite of everything horrifically unfolding, Tonks still felt her heart melt a bit at the rumpled sight of him. She had always loved to watch him in the mornings…and part of her, the part that dreamed of a normal world for both of them, imagined that she had just woken besides Remus, and here they were in the kitchen, nothing amiss, nothing but a couple making breakfast and reading the morning news.

She walked over in quick steps, wiping floo powder off her clothes as she went and pulled his head to her chest. He wrapped an arm casually behind her as she ran a hand through his hair, holding him close. He thought it horribly pathetic that a little voice inside him, both humorous and serious at the same time, had thought _hold me_ when he saw her stumble in. Remus allowed himself to lean in to her, found it difficult to pull away from the soft hands touching him.

"Did Kingsley come by?" she asked Harry after a moment.

"He just left. He and Remus discussed the spell a bit, then he left pretty fast."

"Well…all this mess has him on edge."

Harry looked at her carefully before he hesitantly said, "I know."

Something flickered in his eyes, and Tonks knew that he had figured Kingsley's Lycanthropy out. Harry earnestly looked at Tonks and Remus, her hand still wrapped gently around his head, his cheek against her stomach. Suddenly, he said, "I have to go to Diagon and pick up something I ordered a few weeks ago. I'll be back in an hour."

He got up and pocketed his wand from the table by the door as he turned the knob. On the way out, he told Remus with a hint of a grin, "If I don't see you until you get home tonight, be careful today."

"You be careful, too," he said. And Harry nodded as he disillusioned and left.

Remus and Tonks looked at the closed door silently and she rubbed at his hair for a moment then sat down beside him. They both knew why he left. After walking in on them yesterday, Harry wanted to give them….a moment. But both knew the time wasn't right. It was never right these days. And Remus wondered if they would ever find moments to simply bond again, with all the madness that revolved around his kind.

He knew that things would either turn out well…or he would lose his life. And halfway through that journey there was no time for indulgent sidetrips. In the back of his mind, Remus still told himself that loving these people, figuring into their lives would hurt them in the end. And the thought wore on him heavily.

"If we don't get in the sack pretty soon, Harry's going to have to seek counseling," she quipped, looking at him with an amused smile.

Remus just puffed out a small laugh then sat silently for a moment before he shook his head and looked up.

"Kingsley will put the spell on tomorrow, so I have to go see Snape this morning. If Grendil has agreed to take part, I have a lot of work to do in one day."

Tonks nodded and got up, all business. "Go get ready. I'll make you something for the road."

Remus usually showered, but his bad knee said a quick soak would make the walk from Hogsmeade to Snape's cottage easier. As he ran the tub, Tonks rummaged the kitchen to throw together a lunch for him. She took the two hardly touched omelets and made a sandwich, found a half-eaten bag of crisps and a bottle of butterbeer and put everything in paper bag before shrinking it to pocket size.

She placed the small bag by his eyepatch on the nightstand and sat down on the bed, felt a light stab of something in her front jeans pocket and touched there, remembering the object. After a moment of calming stillness, she picked up the cane that Dumbledore had given Remus so many years ago, the one that morphed and changed sizes according to the user and stored away with two taps. Simple and elegant, willow wood with a pewter handle. Tonks thought of how many things had changed, how many people they had lost as she returned the cane to its spot between the nightstand and the bed.

For a long moment, she tapped her fingers, considering something she desperately wanted to do, good timing or not. Then she resolutely went to the wardrobe, pulled out clothes for him and quickly walked into the bathroom before she changed her mind.

When the door opened, he started and leaned slightly forward, his arm doing a poor job of covering anything. She gave him a small smile as she slowly draped the clothes over the towel rack then kneeled at the tub, folding her arms across the edge.

"I'm going to have to go. I'm on Moody's shit list today."

"So I heard." He was having a hard time controlling the sudden pounding of his heart, the blood pulsing in his ears.

"Not because he didn't agree with me." Her head didn't move as she spoke, but her eyes trailed down his torso and further before looking at him again, almost shyly. "He wanted to pound her into a greasy spot, too. It's just….my turning her into a pile of grape jelly with nothing left but a green chiffon dress floating in the goo wouldn't look good splayed across the front page of _The Prophet_."

He shifted in the soapy, translucent water, and it sloshed it lazily about his ribs.

"I have to agree," he whispered and his stomach spasmed with the struggle of trying to control his breathing and appear calm.

Tonks sighed and reached out to wipe a bit of soap from his ear then dug in her pocket with the wet hand.

"I have something for you. I actually bought it from a road vendor yesterday after we parted ways."

Tonks pulled out a necklace - a thin, fairly short leather strand with a skull and crossbones pendant. The skull had an eyepatch, and a small wavy banner of black metal with the word "marauder" wrapped around the top of the crossbones and draped around either side of it.

She held it in front of him, and he watched it dangle from her delicate hand.

"I think it's the name of a local sports team, but I thought it'd make you smile." And he was smiling. Then he let out a light-hearted laugh that made them both think of happier times they'd shared.

"Is this a good-natured jab at my past with the marauders or a comment on the ongoing travails of the eyepatch."

He didn't remove his awkwardly splayed arms from the water to touch the necklace, afraid of what might happen if she realized he was quite aroused. And she unhooked the clasp, leaned in close to put it around his neck as she said, "Both really. They always say look for a bit of humor in adversity to get you through." He could feel the warmth from her body, could smell her perfume and her own scent. He closed his eyes.

"The skull is Howlite, which is why I bought it. If you're going to Snape's, it should come in handy. He has way too many silver things."

She leaned back and situated the necklace on his chest with a smile, but he could see the strain in it. She was worried.

"You'll let me know what happens? And owl me if you need anything?...Or even if you don't?" she added.

He murmured "yes," taking in her face with his eyes; feeling an odd desperation creeping into his heart as she started to rise and he managed quickly, "May I kiss you?"

Tonks let out a small incredulous sound as she went back down to her knees and leaned over the tub, her face just inches from his, and he could see her eyes dancing behind the worry in them.

"You'll never have to ask that from me. I'm always here for you, waiting to be kissed…you great prat."

Water rushed across in a soapy wave, a brief squeak of skin on metal as he leaned in and kissed her deeply, a small, desperate exhalation sounding in the back of his throat when he opened his mouth slightly and touched his lips to hers.

Her hand reached under the water and touched his hip then moved searchingly up his ribs and came around, resting on his lower back, the place where it used to fall as they slept. He felt hard, tight blood pounding in his core as her gentle fingers fell there. The kiss deepened even further and he worked his lips around hers, caressing her fully.

Finally, for lack of air, they breathlessly pulled away, and Tonks leaned back, one hand grasping the edge of the tub. Her head spasmed just a bit and she shut her eyes then focused on him, pupils heavily dilated. She ran her lower lip over the upper one, hot water that tasted of him lingering on her mouth.

"Do you really want to wait?" she whispered with a small, tight laugh as she ran her gaze over him again then came back to his eyes and found the same hopeful, heartbreaking look she saw on his face the first time they had kissed.

"No," he managed. "But….we should."

She moved forward and fervently kissed his cleanly shaven cheek then moved back to search his eyes with a solid strength she always managed to find in times of adversity. He leaned closer and she dropped another kiss on his mouth and another at the corner of his eye before getting up but he pulled at her hand and pressed it to his cheek, held it there for a long while, his eyes closed; and she sat on the edge of the tub.

She finally pulled the hand away and brushed wet hair off his forehead, her thumb rubbing across it lightly, soothingly.

"Everything will be okay, Remus. I promise. And when all this madness has passed and things are…..simpler….when you're ready, I'll be waiting for you. You'll never have to doubt that."

He nodded, eyes never leaving hers then he took her hand again and squeezed it as she got up. Something pulled from his very being as he felt her wet hand slowly sliding away from his.

And as Tonks turned the knob to leave she said, with a mischievous look on her face, "Be sure to tell that greasy-haired degenerate that the pink-haired bitch says 'hi.'"

He laughed and reached a hand into the opaque water to locate the soap bar. "I will definitely pass that along."

As the door shut, Remus let out a huge, shuddering breath and fully massaged the large, aching desire he had struggled to hide, came quickly with a moan. Eyes closed, mouth slightly open as the final wave of pleasure pulsed through him, Remus breathed heavily and evenly.

Physical desire sated, he leaned against the back of the tub then sank his head and shoulders completely below the water, trying to cleanse his mind of thoughts he felt he couldn't afford. But they were too strong, and so he allowed himself to picture Nymphadora wearing the ring he made for her…of waking up to find her in his embrace in a place they could call their own, of carrying their baby in his arms as they walked, hand in hand down London streets, free from all harm and hate. He thought of all the things that would never happen…and mourned them.

* * *

When Remus reached the seaside cabin and re-illusioned, he found Snape sitting on the back porch in black pajama bottoms, his cane resting against the inside of his leg, the head of it cradled against his shoulder as his hand touched lightly on a full glass of amber colored liquor at his side. 

He stopped at the edge then walked slowly towards the potionsmaster until he stood a few feet away. Like before, there was no acknowledgment, no welcome.

Finally, Snape turned and fixed his eyes on the bottle in Lupin's hand.

"Well well…look what the wolf dragged in." His damaged voice was even hoarser in the morning air.

"As you requested…" Remus said, putting the bottle on the small marble table with a soft clank.

"Yeesss…very nice…you may keep the change."

"It was eight Muggle pounds more than you gave me."

"Indeed," Snape said with an unmistakable smirk. Remus inwardly rolled his eyes.

"Your back porch…it has the same wards as the house?"

Snape shut his eyes and nodded slowly and deliberately then opened them again to stare at the endless ocean. Remus finally leaned against a beam and looked out with him, his back to the potionsmaster.

"I read the morning paper…it seems you have a mosquito whizzing about your cage today…"

"I'm not worried about Skeeter."

"Indeed. Nevertheless, I'm shocked you'd even attempt to come here…unless you have aurors in your pocket. I'm sure you have at least one…in your pocket."

Remus ignored the jab. "The monitoring spell starts tomorrow……but coming here today will still get me arrested if certain people find out." He turned around and leaned on the beam when he added, "And I didn't think you'd come into London if I asked."

Snape's glowering eyes cut into him as he brought the glass to his lips.

Remus knew that alcohol had become an all too familiar solace in Snape's self-imposed isolation. But scotch for breakfast…..merlin…. He tried to stop his trailing eyes, but they instinctively roamed from the glass to dark areas on the potionsmaster's body. Deep claw marks raked both shoulders and at his neck the distinct scarring of broad teeth, waxen punctures of each tooth visible and depressed into the skin.

Snape's black eyes pierced into Remus as the werewolf briefly glanced at the marks.

"Shocked by brutal, unfamiliar reminders of the war, Lupin?"

Remus looked at him with a hint of pity that Snape didn't like.

"Nothing shocks me anymore, Severus." He turned back to the ocean, hand deep in his pocket as he leaned heavily on the beam.

Snape slowly poured a second scotch, sipped at it with some irritation and glared at Remus' back as the two of them endured an uncomfortable silence, made somewhat more bearable by the calming ocean in front of them.

"You're not going to ask what caused these injuries? What person or thing? What circumstances brought them about?

"No," he said quietly.

"You're wondering if I've contracted Lycanthropy….or if the students' old vampire rumors are true…there are so many conclusions to draw…but the reality of the matter is…humans and animals bite for many reasons…Anger, protection, control…..love."

At "love," Remus turned around, looking a bit threatened; and Snape eyed him with an ugly hunger, sensing a weak spot and eager to probe it.

"You've pushed inside another, felt hot skin rubbing against yours….the heat, the smell of another human deep in your senses…you can't tell me you haven't bitten down and felt the thrill of salty blood warm against your lips…..how many times have you marked that nymph as she's writhed beneath you? Surely, all you've left her with is a catacombed neck."

Remus had said nothing shocked him, but Severus could see a hint of just that in his carefully controlled face.

"I would have never done that to her…marked her like that."

"But you have bitten her," Snape said knowingly, white teeth visible through the slit of his sneer.

Remus looked away and swallowed, and Severus relished the werewolf's discomfort like a medicinal tonic.

"I never hurt her. Pain has no place in pleasure, Severus."

Snape let out a laugh, hoarse but quite loud for his damaged throat.

"I must disagree with you on that, Lupin….but, enough of these pointless games…perhaps we should go in inside."

Snape made to rise when he realized two hours of sitting idly on the porch had stiffened his weak leg. He sat back down and tested the joint painfully with a small bend then muttered, "Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to help me," as he stood with a stifled grimace.

Remus stayed in his spot and shook his head; and Snape finally managed to walk, a bit straighter in the back than necessary, into the cabin and made for the bedroom, pointing wordlessly at the couch with his cane before shutting the door behind him.

Remus sat down on the large, overstuffed couch and soonafter, Snape re-emerged wearing black leather slippers and a heavy black robe, his pajama bottoms still visible underneath it.

He shot Remus a furtive, fairly nasty look as he passed him to reach the scotch decanter and poured the werewolf a large glass then spelled it over as he sat down carefully in the chair across from him.

Lupin leaned on his knees, the scotch glass held loosely in his good hand as his gaze fixed Snape, who sat quite still in the comfortable chair and looked quite uncomfortable.

"Lupin…..Cretagus Grendil has declined to be directly involved in your forum."

Remus returned his stare for a minute then blinked and dropped his head, let out a deep breath then raised the glass and drained it in several efficient swallows. He stared at the empty glass then put it down pensively on the table between them.

"I am sorry," Snape said slowly. And Remus could hear the regret in his voice.

"I see…..well….thank you for contacting him. I do appreciate it."

"What will you do?" Snape queried in a suddenly detached, almost clinical voice.

In the silence, Remus could hear his ears ringing, his heart beating. He could feel a wave of slow and heavy depression wrapping around him. Finally, he traced his eyes, found his voice. "I have two choices, really. I can stay here and die…..or I can leave…..go to Germany, perhaps. They have a commune there, in the forest."

"Which is barely a step above Fenrir's pack. They're ferals, Lupin."

"They're my equals…."

"You're not one of them."

"I am, Severus. Civilization here doesn't want my kind. Soon, there will be no werewolves in London. And no one will mourn us. People will breathe easier for it….If I can't make the forum happen, I can't stay…..I won't die here."

He sighed and relaxed into the couch with a bit of defeat, looked up at the low, vaulted roof of the cabin and saw a small spider web glinting in the morning sun. In that moment of simple concentration, he found some center of peace long enough to share a brutally personal secret.

"I'm going to be honest with you. This…this past year, I've barely survived…I've done nothing but wait to die…have wanted it even…just a release from everything…from the pain, the hatred…the hurt and loneliness…..but this past week has changed things….I don't know how a few simple days can accomplish that, but they have…I won't let Umbridge and her laws slowly kill me. Not anymore…"

Severus rubbed at the head of his cane with a pensive thumb, brows knitted.

"So these are your choices, death or banishment."

"I won't go back to London City Holding, and that in itself is a felony offense. I won't be able to return to England."

"I see…you wouldn't request the forum anyway?"

Remus sat still for a moment then finally shook his head resolutely. "Any reform has to somehow play into economics for The Ministry to consider it. And I don't see any other way that could occur."

Severus stabbed lightly at the rug with his cane, looking down with an almost angry look in his eyes.

"Lupin….I said that Grendil refused to directly involve himself….he has idealistic issues with stepping foot in England. He did…however…state that he would allow me to speak at the forum on his behalf…and….I am….I am co-creator of the new wolfsbane, although he holds the patent."

The werewolf slowly raised his eyebrows, a low grin playing on his lips. Snape didn't like the look of it.

"Lupin, my speaking on behalf of these ideas is worse than no forum at all. Surely you're not blind to the fact that I'm one of the most hated people in post-war society."

Lupin just continued to smile.

Snape rolled his eyes and looked out the window, hands still kneading in annoyance at Malfoy's cane.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Grendil holds the patent…and the public acknowledgement of creation. It was his prerogative. And we're colleagues, but I don't know him well. He sent me an early formula, and I perfected it. When I went to Spain to discuss this with him, we met for the first time."

"You went to all the way to Spain for this?" Remus asked quietly

Snape turned back to Lupin, his face slowly morphing into one of pure annoyance but in spite of that he said, "Given the weighty political implications, I felt the topic required face-to-face discussion."

Remus nodded. "You weren't going to tell me that you could represent the science. You really feel that you're that big of hindrance?"

"Don't delude yourself, Lupin. Animosity towards me is stronger than any positive alternatives your program would suggest."

"This forum will be full of animosity. Umbridge hates Lycanthropes. She hates people questioning her laws, stirring up trouble. The post-war Ministry is hardnosed, and they've inadvertently destroyed many things they mean to protect, like freedom…and opportunity. I'll come in and address tolerance and understanding, the last two things they want to hear about….the populace will call the wolfsbane program unpatriotic and selfish…especially at a time when people should attempt to sacrifice self for the sake of freedom…..I'm well aware it's a complicated game we play, living here today. It's irrational, but I understand it….. And I'm not saying the forum will accomplish anything, Severus…..but I have to try and do what I can."

Snape answered him with a sharp reprimand. "It will fail. And when it does, they won't let you leave, Lupin. They'll kill you. It will be like the days of old, wands and ropes and torches in the night. You know this."

Remus shifted in his chair. "I see….Is that why you hide out here?"

Snape pursed his lips in thought then cut his narrowed eyes to the portico as he shrugged casually. "I have no interest in explaining my role in the war. A select few understand it……I believe, however odd it may be, that you do. But beyond the displeasure of being spat on by strangers, I have no intrinsic interest in the company of people anymore. And I have no plans on returning to Hogwarts. In actuality, I'm not sure that I shall stay here much longer."

"Where will you go?"

"It matters not."

"Tell me, Severus," Remus goaded supportively.

Snape looked at bit thoughtful, and Remus saw a glimmer of openness in his face as he looked into the empty glass held loosely in his lap when he finally answered, "Russia."

Remus looked at him carefully. "That's where she is….isn't it….the Deatheater you helped escape….she's one of the reasons they keep watching you, you know…they think she'll eventually show."

"She was a pawn, Lupin. Just one more gullible young mind with no self-esteem, ready to find some purpose and someone who valued her. And she fed into his hatred because it gave her meaning, nothing more. She didn't deserve death or a lifetime of Azkaban for that. She committed no crimes during the war. She simply wore the colors, so to speak, and helped take care of the wounded…And she was raped by him many times when he regained a corporeal body….she's suffered enough."

"And that's why he tortured you….you tried to stop it?"

Snape's face was all stone and bluntness and he looked at a spot above Lupin, unable to meet his eyes. He sniffed and crossed his legs then rubbed carefully at his brow.

"He tortured me for many reasons, none of which I care to discuss with you at the moment."

Remus remained quiet, letting Snape know that he would ask no more questions, would respect the boundaries. Finally, Snape rose and glared at him fixedly.

"Do what you feel is best for your forum, Lupin. I will speak if you should, in some colossal fit of bad judgment, find it necessary….It is your own skinny hide in the balance and, as such, you may gamble it as you choose…but I won't be held responsible for your death, dismemberment, incarceration or general unhappiness."

Remus laughed heartily and Snape was surprised to find his lips turning up in a smile at the sound of it.

Remus stood and after a strange, heavy beat of silence tentatively reached out his left hand to shake Snape's.

Severus looked at the hand warily. "I'm right-handed, Lupin."

"And I'm one-handed," he said, straight-faced.

"Quite so," Severus said in a low, greasy voice but didn't shake the proffered left hand and so Remus dropped it. "I owe you for past considerations. This is recompense, nothing more."

When they got to the back porch, Remus pulled Dumbledore's cane out of his coat pocket and tapped it twice. He sat on the steps and looked out at the ocean, touched the cane to his forehead, lost in thought.

"Dumbledore gave you that cane, did he not?" Snape said casually, spelling the scotch decanter from the other room.

Remus studied the intricate swirl of the grain that worked around the cane. "He did. When I was very young…before I started school at Hogwarts."

"The golden boy from the very beginning. Dumbledore's right hand man." Severus smirked as he poured a new glass, ready to slowly nurse himself into oblivion and hide from random images of terror that shot through his mind on days like today. It would be a good day, a lost day.

Remus and Severus both sat, staring into the blanket of blackish grey sea that pulsed in rushing and rhythmic movement, mist rising up to barely brush at them as the salty ocean touched the white cliffs below. Remus sat entranced, eyes closed, realizing he stood on the bare edge of his life. In the next month, everything would change…for better or for worse. And perhaps for Severus, as well.

Finally, he opened his eyes, started out of his revelry as he stood and turned. "I have a lot to do today…should probably go."

Severus nodded, not looking at him. "I highly approve of your departure."

Remus looked at the cane leaning against Snape's shoulder, the silver cobra's head and emerald eyes glaring out at him. He knew Malfoy's wand lay nestled in the center, ready to strike. When he picked up the cane, Snape's hand shot out and grabbed it; and Remus returned his glance mildly then pulled a bit harder and Snape surprised him by letting go. Remus held the cane up at eye level and studied the head for a short moment then sat it down carefully beside the chair. In its place, he put Dumbledore's cane in the crook of Snape's arm.

Severus watched this all carefully with a look of alert boredom. Without moving his head, he cut his eyes sideways to look at the cane then looked back at Remus, both of them caught in a long stare until Snape finally looked away and picked up Malfoy's cane, jumped it upward in his hand so that he held the bottom. And with one graceful movement, he threw the cane, head over end, spinning in the ocean where its final splash was drowned out by the power of the waves. He looked up at Remus then leaned back in his chair, taking a deep drink of scotch.

And Remus looked out into the ocean where the cane had flown to its demise then studied Snape with a comfortable grin.

"Good day, Severus."

"Remus."

He smiled at the sound of his first name, having never heard Snape use it before. Then he put a hand on his chest and disillusioned, disappearing from sight and heading back to Hogsmeade, once again finding purpose and direction in his struggle to create a better tomorrow.

**tbc **

_

* * *

__Author's Note:_

_Sorry this was so long in coming, guys. I'm still working out of state but in a less computer accessible area than before. Plus, this thing kept growing. The ring got pushed back a bit, but it will still show. _

_This chapter makes reference to the scene between Dumbledore and Remus in the "Age Ten" chapter of "Random Acts." It also brings up Howlite once again. The fact that it blocks silver burns in werewolves will be important later._

_I hope there aren't too many errors in this chapter. I don't have a beta, and my computer time is pretty limited right now. _

_Please review if you can! They're the treats that keep me tricking, the snacks that make me roll over, the paycheck that keeps me working…alright, I'll stop (big grin). _

_Hope you all continue to enjoy reading and thanks for stopping by. _

_Cheers,_

_rane_


	11. Day 7

_Choices are the hinges of destiny_

_Edwin Markham_

* * *

"**Day 7"**

Kingsley Shacklebolt hated paperwork. Merlin, but he hated it. So when the fourth owl of the morning fluttered over to his cluttered desk, she simply spat out the message with a quick feather shake and flew from the auror's island of disarray to give him space.

Kingsley growled lowly and snatched the letter then sat still when he saw the Ministry of Magic stamp….in pink wax.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

_Auror Shacklebolt:_

_Minister Umbridge expresses concern that the monitoring spell has not yet been applied to Remus John Lupin III. She would like this legal action performed today, preferably before noon, and she is also requesting a direct feed orb to be delivered to her office, again, preferably as of noon today. _

_If you have any questions, you may contact me directly. Please do not disturb the Minister. The direct feed orb and the final paperwork may be delivered to me._

_Sincerely,_

_Campbell Sturgeon  
Ministry Assistant, Post-War Reparation Committee  
Owl: Ministry of Magic Headquarters, Floor 28, Window 94  
Floo: G8739 (Umbridge wing)  
Office Hours: Sunday-Saturday, 7 am-10 pm_

Kingsley grabbed a clean sheet of parchment and began to write then bit at his split thumbnail broodingly. He flipped the quill down and immediately walked over to the central floo, blue flames crackling but not emanating heat as he called Minerva McGonagall. She appeared quite quickly, looking startled.

"Kingsley, is something wrong?"

He looked about then leaned into the fireplace, talking quietly.

"Minerva, could you come up with a new DADA professor right now? Someone who'd be willing to say they're taking the job, even if they're not going to?"

She looked at him with knitted brows. "Why?"

"Because the paperwork for Lupin's monitoring spell says it's only in effect until a new professor is placed. If you name someone, I can tell Umbridge to bite my ass."

Minerva nodded but gave him a reprimanding look, as if he should know better.

"It's a temporary solution, at best. She'll find a way to have the spell performed, legally or otherwise."

Kingsley's tough guy façade faded for just a second, and she saw heartfelt concern in his hardened eyes.

"I know…I just…I can't do this to him today. I don't have it in me."

Minerva gave him a small, pursed-lip smile then put a pensive finger to her lips, lost in thought for a moment before she finally said, "I believe we have just nominated Sturgis Podmore as a replacement for Mr. Lupin in the DADA position." She dropped the hand, nodded at Kingsley and said briskly before she made to leave, "That should put a bee in their bonnet, and Sturgis would be glad to help. I'll let him know the circumstances immediately. Please keep me informed."

Kingsley grinned and murmured his thanks as he went back to his desk and wrote:

_Assistant Sturgeon:_

_The stipulations for the monitoring spell are no longer in effect. Hogwarts hired Sturgis Podmore to replace Remus Lupin as DADA professor, so it looks like they saved us both the trouble._

_Kingsley Shacklebolt  
Auror Defense Force, London_

Kingsley let out a low cackle as he called Persephone over for the ten wingflap trip to the Ministry building.

But by the time he got himself a soda and lumbered back to his desk, the wide-eyed owl had returned, biting at the letter before she dropped it and flew back to the sill.

The assistant's handwriting jerked across the page, slightly spasmodic, and much less controlled than before.

_Auror Shacklebolt:_

_Minister Umbridge is requesting that the monitoring spell be performed anyway._

_Sincerely,_

_Campbell Sturgeon  
Ministry Assistant, Post-War Reparation Committee  
Owl: Ministry of Magic Headquarters, Floor 28, Window 94  
Floo: G8739 (Umbridge wing)  
Office Hours: Sunday-Saturday, 7 am-10 pm_

Kingsley wrote below the message.

_Sturgeon:_

_Then she can fill out the proper forms again, along with the new reason she's requesting the spell. And if Auror Moody approves her request, we can go from there._

_Shacklebolt_

He held the letter out for Persephone and leaned back in this chair, fingers laced across the top of his head and eyes tracing in thought, a knot beginning to form in his stomach as he waited for the inevitable comeback; and the owl swooped back in faster than he had anticipated, looking grumpy and dropping the letter in his hands with an angry flap of her wings.

"I know, it sucks going over there," he said cordially to the owl and read the letter as he dug in his desk for a small box of Sir Grinigan's Famous and Delectable Treats for Owls and Cats. He chunked two morsels on the desk and leaned back in the chair, leg busy in growing annoyance. The handwriting on this one was so jagged, he stumbled over a few barely legible words.

_Auror Shacklebolt:_

_Minister Umbridge wishes speak to you at your earliest convenience. She is most put out by what appears to be a blatant lack of cooperation._

_Sincerely,_

_Campbell Sturgeon  
Ministry Assistant, Post-War Reparation Committee  
Owl: Ministry of Magic Headquarters, Floor 28, Window 94  
Floo: G8739 (Umbridge wing)  
Office Hours: Sunday-Saturday, 7 am-10 pm_

Kingsley balled up the note and threw it in a far corner trashcan with pinpoint accuracy as he stormed out, muttering under his breath. Tonks was walking through the hall and just caught the phrases "crazy bitch" and "little toad."

She stopped and watched the hallway occupants part for Kingsley's angry ford towards the exit.

"Are you going to see Umbridge?" she called.

"Yeah," he threw over his shoulder as he opened the door and light flooded the dark hallway. "Want me to belt her for you?"

"No," she yelled back. "I'll do it myself one of these days. Looking forward to it, actually!"

He nodded widely and smiled, his white teeth showing as he shut the door.

When Kingsley burst through the 28th floor office door, a bit harder than necessary, Campbell's eyes went wide.

"Mr. - I mean Auror Shacklebolt, isn't it? You didn't have to come over so soon! I mean I hope you're not upset. It's just business, you know, all of this, but you wait here and I'll let Minister Umbridge know you're here."

He scrambled around the desk to beat Kingsley to Umbridge's door, but the auror had already opened it and walked in, shutting the door decisively behind him.

The room was huge, magically expanded and full of ornate knickknacks, bombastic brightly colored curtains and a huge painting of Umbridge herself, dressed in ancient wizarding robes and holding a scale in her hand. The normally unflappable auror had to literally stifle a laugh, which sounded like a low cough of sorts as he held a fist to his mouth, hiding a smile he couldn't control.

Umbridge sat at her desk, an awfully high desk with an awfully high chair, and a four-stepped stool below it. Her downy, pink and white quill fluttered like moss underwater as she scratched away at her notes. Kingsley shifted on his feet and tilted his head warily, already tired of standing at her door like one of the many useless things strewn about the decor saturated office.

Umbridge perched heavily on her plump bottom, very much aware of him but even more aware of his impolite entrance as she scratched away at the parchment in even, measured script. Finally, she cleared her throat and daintily rolled up the parchment in front of her.

With practiced intent, she swiveled her head and eyed him carefully over half-moon bifocals and plastered on an immediate, sweet smile.

"Hem Hem…..Well! Mr. Shacklebot! It appears my assistant has behaved poorly by failing to announce your arrival to me. I'm sorry you had to locate me on your own."

Kingsley crossed his muscular arms and stated inwardly for the umpteenth time in his life how much he hated this woman.

"It wasn't Sturgeon's fault I barged in. You'll have to fill out the proper paperwork if you still want a monitoring spell on Mr. Lupin. If the reason has changed, you'll need to resubmit everything. That's just the way paperwork goes. We all have to do it."

"I see, Mr. Shacklebolt," she said primly and rose from her high chair, stepping lightly one sequined foot at a time until she stood in front of him, her craned head barely able to see over his chin.

She took two steps backward for a better view of his face and smiled, her sharp teeth shining in between heavily glossed lips. Apparently, invading this man's personal space as a subtle message of dominance wasn't going to work.

"Now…Mr. Shacklebolt, I'm sure _you_, of all people, can appreciate that sometimes situations are too dire to be hindered by ridiculous red tape. If you had to fill out a form to act on every Death Eater attack during the war, what would our side have ever accomplished? We are both soldiers of the new world, are we not?" she cooed, wrapping cold fingers around his bicep as she tilted her head in a frightening attempt at charm, her needle-sharp pupils digging into him. "And, as such, we have to attack in the most efficient way necessary. We are people of action, not quill pushers, wouldn't you agree?"

Kingsley felt his fingers twitch, wanting to grab her by the neck and yank her out the window….have the auror owls carry her to the dark forest and drop her in Aragog's old den. He allowed himself the brief daydream as he considered a real response. Answering Umbridge on just about anything was a dangerous business. It required more tact than he had and less than she deserved.

"I understand that paperwork is an annoyance sometimes, Minister," he said, pulling his arm carefully from her grasp. "But if we let everyone forgo the proper channels, the auror force'd be in chaos."

She nodded her head coyly. "A by-the-book man."

"Yes, ma'am," he said bluntly.

After a long moment, she looked him over with a decorator's eye.

"Hmmm…..You have a very very interesting scar….just there," she said slowly, popping briefly at his head with her downy quill. I've done ample research on scarring and symptoms and such, as part of my training for this job. I can spot a vampire from several blocks, you know. And other dark creatures, as well."

Her nostrils flared when she smiled, her eyes widening. From above, he could see her tiny black pupils through a fringe of mascara-blobbed lashes.

"Did you get that scar during the war, Auror Shacklebolt?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "Fighting Fenrir's pack……during a day moon."

"Ah…when the full moon is visible during the day…and in the last winter phase a werewolf's claws and teeth erupt…and their eyes glooow," she said widening her eyes, eyebrows raised in a faux spooky voice. "Quite frightening, weren't they, those half monsters?" she said, watching him closely.

He shifted on his feet and his eyes darted to the window nervously.

"I was just doing my job," he said with a hard voice.

"Hmhm," she sang, eyes running greasily over him, taking in the torn earlobe, the small scar just visible above the collar of his robe, the fractured state of his fingernails.

"Well, Auror Kingsley, you have made your point. I applaud you for following rules. If I cannot persuade you of the immediacy of my need, I will contact Auror Moody this afternoon. Good day," she said turning on her high heel but as he immediately made to grab at the knob, she added with not a little bit of warning in her slow, singsong voice, "And Auror Shacklebolt….do be careful…."

When he turned and looked at her, she was fingering her quill, looking at him over her bifocals with a focused intensity that made his stomach turn. Then she smiled and sat back down. "You may call Assistant Sturgeon for me as you leave."

He pulled at the knob, jaw working furiously as he muttered to Campbell when he walked out the door, "She wants to see you."

Campbell stood frozen, and the last thing visible to the hallway before he shut the door was Dolores Umbridge pulling out her special bloodletting quill, the one used for particular memos and reminders. The one Campbell would soon use to write many many times on his arm, _I announce the arrival of all visitors to my superior personally_.

When Kingsley returned to HQ, he stuck his head in Moody's office to find the auror glaring at a green orb on his desk, wand tight in his lowered hand.

"Another bloody artifact from the trashed Department of Mysteries. They keep popping up on the black market."

"What is it?"

If I knew that, would I be standing here gawking at it like a firstyear? It'd already be obliterated!" he growled then murmured in thought "..A built-in countercurse might take out the whole building…. I'll let you know in a few minutes what the blasted thing is."

Normally, the orb would have interested Kingsley, but he just looked into the empty hallway. One of the aurors in training ran by and bumped into him with a mumbled 'sorry' as he ran to a briefing.

"Umbridge is going to contact you about the monitoring spell on Lupin. She wants it done today, even though Hogwarts has placed a new professor." Kingsley cocked his head to the side as he heard an owl approaching, and the large, tawny bird dropped two messages on Moody's chair before swooping off again.

"Then she can resubmit the paperwork."

"You can imagine how she feels about that…"

"I'm not giving that woman anything!...And I'm not spelling Lupin." He glanced at the sender addresses on the letters then looked back down at the orb, brooding. Kingsley popped his knuckles, something raw and unsettled pulsing in his mind. Umbridge knew. She knew….

"I gotta leave, Moody. My kid has an appointment at St. Mungo's."

Moody looked up with concern. "Anything bad?"

Kingsley shook his head and leaned heavier on the doorway, trying to feel casual. "Just a scratch on him that hasn't healed well. I want Rangune to look at it. He fills out the reports so that they don't look…problematic" He finally stood up and cleared his throat. "And he understands the things that go along with it."

Moody nodded, his magical eye unmoving and fixed on Kingsley for a moment. "Might want to keep Lupin informed," he said carefully. "Let him know we're here for him, that if we have to take a step backward with all this, we'll be all the more on guard. Constant vigilance."

"Yeah," Kingsley said. "I told him I'd come by this morning."

Moody nodded then looked back down at the orb, his face curled into a grimace as a light pulsed within the talisman again and a metallic growl sounded.

"Piece of goddamned Death Eater filth," he muttered as Kingsley shut the door.

Kingsley showed up at Harry's flat wearing Muggle street clothes -- jeans and a tight black t-shirt that strained around his biceps. In his arms, he held his six-month-old son, dressed in a light blue jumper and wrapped in a blanket that had teddy bears and the phrases "I love Mommy" and "I love Daddy" all over it.

"Hey there!" Remus said with a laugh, looking at the baby with a gentle smile.

"Remus, this is Jordon," Kingsley said with a softness in his voice that Remus had never heard as he beamed at the bundle in his arms.

The baby looked at Remus for a second, unsure and mesmerized, then smiled broadly with a breathy exhalation. He had his father's coffee brown skin and steely blue eyes; and although his hair curled like his fathers (or like it would if Kingsley ever grew it out), the locks were a dark auburn, much like his mother's.

When Remus pulled the door back to let them in, Kingsley immediately leaned the baby forward and he went willingly into Remus' arms.

"Are you sure he's only six months, Kingsley? He's huge!"

"Nope, just six months," Kingsley said with an affectionate laugh.

When they sat down, one of Jordon's tiny hands wrapped around his and he noticed they had cut his slight infant fingernails back to nothing to avoid wounds during transformations.

Kingsley put a full bottle on the table and watched them both in calming silence.

"You want tea?" Remus asked and Kingsley shook his head.

"I can't believe he went to you so easily like that. He's not very good with strangers…too clingy….Tonks babysits for us from time to time, though. He loves her…and she's right good with children."

"She is," Remus said quietly with a hint of hurt that was unmistakable. He crooked his neck to look at Jordon sitting his lap and the baby leaned in, wobbling and closed a chubby hand around Remus' shirt, wrapped his mouth around it and blathered.

Kingsley laughed and said, "Sorry 'bout that, he's teething….Where's Harry?"

"Fleur had some extra tickets to the quidditch workshop in Ireland and took Harry, Ginny, and Ron." Remus shook his head, brow knitted. "I had to force him out the door…Some part of him thinks he has to protect me."

Kingsley smiled at Remus' puzzlement.

"There are a lot of people out there who would want to hurt you, Lupin. Harry knows you're extremely powerful…but he's been through enough to know that there's safety in numbers."

When Remus resituated Jordon on his lap and the baby pulled back a bit, a huge string of slobber fell across his hand and Remus just chuckled and wiped the slobber on his shirt without a second thought.

"You could definitely have kids, Lupin!" Kingsley laughed, finally noticing the scattered papers and notes strewn across the kitchen table.

"Is this for the forum?"

Remus nodded. "And also some editing for Flourish and Blotts. With the new laws they're not paying me what they used to, but it's something. I was hoping to help Harry buy some things for school."

Kingsley looked at him, thought about reminding Remus that Harry didn't need any help where money was concerned. But he knew that wasn't the point. Besides, he had stopped by for other reasons.

"Look, mate, I came to tell you Minerva's placed a "dummy choice" in the DADA position. I don't know how much time it will buy you on the monitoring spell, though. Umbridge is already pissed off."

Remus studied Kingsley. "I appreciate you all trying to stop it, but if the spell happens, it happens. I should be able to handle everything from here until the forum. It's actually coming together quite nicely. Better than I had even hoped."

Kingsley eyed him nervously for a long minute then said, "Look…..I…."

But Remus shook his head with a small, tacit smile.

"I told you I understand, Kingsley. You have a family, a job…your health. You have a lot more to lose than I do….I live the life you'd be thrown into if things went badly…and I don't want that for you. Or your son. I don't begrudge you hanging on to secrecy as long as you can….It might make things harder when it comes out, that you kept it secret…but…maybe it's best for right now. The most important thing is that right now you have a choice, and that's….something to cherish."

Remus looked down at the baby, who was staring intently at the necklace around Remus' neck then batted his hands up and down jerkily with a squeal, eyes never leaving the howlite pendant.

Kingsley studied the table and swallowed, ashamed as he finally managed to answer, "I know it won't last forever. And I did discuss the forum with my wife." Kingsley let out a small, nervous laugh. "Let's just make a long story short and say she freaked."

Remus' eyes never left the child in his arms, who smiled blissfully, all pink gums and simply joy as he kicked his feet then found his toes, mesmerized once again.

"She's afraid, Kingsley. She has the right to be."

"You know how I feel? You remember when Tonks used to invite people over for dinner during the Grimmauld days? Everyone would bring the goods and she'd cook. And Dung wouldn't bring anything or go over, he'd just wait for word on whether she'd burned everything to a crisp or not..and if it all worked out, he'd show.….that's how this whole thing makes me feel. Like I'm waiting to see if your dinner turns out and if it does, I'll come over and take advantage of it."

Remus looked at him stone faced for a moment then slowly started to laugh.

"Kingsley, that's about the worst analogy I've ever heard. Someday, I'm going to tell Tonks that one."

Kingsley grinned broadly then the smile fell away as he looked out the window.

"But you get what I mean, Lupin. I want to help every way I can, save announcing to the world I've got the full moon fur issue…..Umbridge is digging, though. It's about to get nasty…..and I think…she knows. I think she knows."

"Knows what?"

Kingsley looked back at Remus like a man who had just received a heavy blow to the chest and hadn't yet found his air again.

"She knows about me…I think."

Remus didn't look surprised or shocked or even concerned, but he said in a wary voice. "Kingsley, if she doesn't know yet, she will. I told you, it's inevitable. For you…and for him."

The baby had fallen into a deep sleep, leaning awkwardly on Remus' chest and he laid the baby into the crook of arm and leaned back in the chair, situating the blanket around him gently.

They both sat quietly, listening to the baby's soft breath whispering through the quiet room.

"Whether I survive or not, I hope something good comes out of all of this. I hope your little one will be raised in a better world than ours. Having wolfsbane, he already has a very important step up on my childhood. But…it's going to be hard."

"We take it one step at a time," Kingsley promised, accidentally bumping the table with his knee. Suddenly, the baby bottle fell off the table and Kingsley saw it jolt to a split second stop and sit carefully on the floor.

Kingsley got up to retrieve the bottle and looked at Remus carefully.

The werewolf inwardly cursed himself. He'd stayed at Harry's for a week now. Harry knew, and he'd come to use the wandless magic too casually. But the stop was so subtle and quick. Perhaps Kingsley hadn't noticed….Shit, of course he had. The bottle didn't even clank when it touched the floor.

Kingsley continued to stare at him, looking a bit stunned.

"What's wrong?" Remus asked mildly.

He shifted in his seat again and looked away then gauged Remus sharply.

"Remus, are you a _Venificus primo_?"

Remus looked at him guardedly, his eyes suddenly flat.

"Because of the bottle just then? Or did someone tell you that.?"

Kingsley shrugged. "Sirius said something in passing once, over dinner at Grimmauld. He was right snockered at the time, but later on, it made sense."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked tightly, unsure of taking the conversation into unknown territory.

"The Order, we'd go places, take watches…Once, you accidentally left your wand on the nightstand…and another time on the Grimmauld kitchen table…but you'd never go back for it, never felt bare without it."

Remus considered whether to fess up and found that he leaned towards denial. He hid his power for the same reason he had hidden his disease. People feared what they didn't understand. And a _Venificus primo_ Lycanthrope was a dangerous combination in a wary, ill-informed society recovering from war. He was threat exponentially multiplied. A dark creature they couldn't disarm, one who didn't lose his powers with the full moon.

He had told Sirius and James all those years ago, because after finding out your best friend's a werewolf, nothing else raises your eyebrows too high. Tonks and Snape had both been smart enough to figure it out on their own but pragmatic enough not to mention it because Remus never had. (what would Tonks say to find she shared a behavioral proclivity with Severus?) He smiled.

After watching him conjure spells for most of the year, Hermione had noted enough subtle differences in his magic to realize he used the wand as a prop, not as a tool…and she had told Ron and Harry right away…although she didn't immediately share other…suspicions she couldn't confirm.

And then there was Dumbledore, who had always seemed to know, had told him once that it wasn't a crime to be gifted. It was third year before he realized that Dumbledore knew. How he knew never mattered, because Dumbledore knew everything. The whys and wherefores were pointless investigations.

"Kingsley…if you don't know, you'll never have to lie about it to anyone."

"I don't worry about that kind of shit, honestly," Kingsley said with a shrug. "But I'd appreciate your telling me if you are. The next month or so'll be rough with all of this bloody upheaval. It'd be nice to have a weapons count."

Remus rearranged the baby gently in his arm, didn't look back up at Kingsley immediately but finally gazed up at him with a frank stare. And without moving his eyes from Kingsley, the doors in the flat shut and locked one at a time then, in reverse, unlocked and opened again, each movement quick as lightning.

Kingsley's eyes darted around the flat and when everything finally went silent, Remus looked at him nervously, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"Fucking hell, Lupin," he said, shocked. "You weren't even concentrating."

But Remus just answered, "It's better that people don't know these days, especially since the Ministry doesn't have it on record."

"There's no bloody place on the form for it, Lupin. I mean….you're definitely the only _Venificus primo_ werewolf…you may be the only one in London period."

"…It's 'withholding information about a registered creature'…It's just better to keep it quiet. That's why I've tried not to tell people. I don't want it used against them. Or me."

Kingsley nodded sagely. "Does Moody know?"

Remus nodded back. "He's one of the few. Tonks, Harry, Ron, and Snape. A cousin in Leeds whom I haven't seen in years. Dumbledore and the Marauders knew…..and my parents, who have both passed. That's it, to my knowledge."

Kingsley flinched as an immediate thought hit him hard.

"Peter knows?"

Remus swallowed and looked away. "Peter's in Azkaban. He hasn't spoken in years.…. He was hit with the same curse as Hermione."

"But he knows," Kingsley repeated, and Remus looked at him curtly.

"Yes. Peter knows."

Kingsley nodded. "I want him in isolation then. I'll have him moved."

"I don't think that's necessary."

"It is, Lupin. I told you, every precaution. I don't want Umbridge's people approaching that rat for information to use against you."

"He can't speak, Kingsley. He's a conscious vegetable."

"Someone like Snape could read his thoughts," he said lowly.

Remus blinked and studied the tension in Kingsley's face. "Snape is one of the few with that ability, and I promise you he could care less what's in Peter Pettigrew's skull."

"I know that, Lupin. I was just using him as an example." Kingsley said quietly. "….He's a prick, but it's not like he's looking for chinks in the post-war armor to bring back the Death Eaters or any of that other shite _The Prophet_ goes on about."

Remus let out a breath and shut his eyes. "I'm glad you realize that about Snape. There's too many people who don't understand."

Kingsley nodded warily.

"No, I get it. Doesn't mean I have to like the git…..But until the forum, Peter stays in the isolation wing." After a beat, Kingsley grinned wickedly. "I won't even fill out the paperwork."

Remus handed the limp, snoring baby back to Kingsley as the auror got up nervously, muttering about wrapping up some things and running some errands before taking his son home. Remus walked him to the door and whispered, "Bye, little one" to the sleeping infant.

And Kingsley smiled at Remus and patted him on the back, suddenly glad that he had brought his baby for Remus to meet. Before the door shut, he said, "When this is all over, Lupin, you're going to get hit up for babysittin' more than you know." And Remus laughed heartily.

"I'd like that…but you can't pay me less because I'm a werewolf."

"Pay you?" Kingsley said innocently as Remus shut the door in his face with a deadpan expression. Kingsley laughed as he went down the stairs, and Remus grinned broadly, going back to his forum work.

After 7:00 pm, Harry and Ron fell through the floo wearing cheap green quidditch robes that said 289th Annual Irish Quidditch Workshop across the back in white lettering, the small spelled silhouette quidditch player barely able to circle the words anymore, temporary charm running low on juice.

They bombarded Remus with a heavy, scattered artillery of grand things worth sharing about the workshop and Remus only half listened, absorbed with the ease in which Harry talked, the lack of tension in his face and in his voice.

He would talk to Ron. Maybe he and Harry could go on a trip to see Charlie again in Romania. Or even better, a climbing trip to Chamonix Valley, anything to get him away and allow him some mental rest before their busy 7th year started. Harry needed more days like this one while he was still a teenager. He needed memories that didn't have the shadow of Voldemort loaming over them.

Remus smiled comfortably, letting their good-natured, high energy happiness seep into him like an elixir and was suddenly jolted back to reality by Ron's leaning over the table and meeting his eyes.

"She and Fleur are actually…._bonding_," Ron said, looking incredulous.

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Fleur and Ginny! They used to hate each other! But Fleur is a right decent quidditch player, so Jenny was going on and on about good female players and how she's a role model for the sport and blahblahblah," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"It's not a bad thing, Ron," Harry said, leaning on the table with his elbows and chewing hungrily on a dry crust of toast Remus had left on the saucer by his cold tea. "She's family now. And everyone seems to get along with her but your mum."

Ron shrugged with an amused smile. "Mum will come around. She likes Fleur now, I think it's just Bill is her first married kid."

"He's hardly a kid, Ron," Harry scoffed then looked over the piles of papers strewn across the desk.

"You've been working here all day?"

Remus looked at the pile of presentation work and nodded his head, satisfied.

"I got a lot done."

"Did you eat lunch? Is this all you ate today, this toast?" Harry said, shoving the final scrap of toast in his mouth as he got up and bounded to the window, looking up at the sky.

Remus rubbed at his nose. He really was hungry, but he had planned to turn in his editing to Flourish and Blotts and pick up his pay, perhaps go by the half price bakery and buy some day old scones and some meat shavings from the butcher next door. They charged by the pound, and he could use them to make a salad of sorts that would keep for several weeks with the proper spells.

"It was bloody beautiful outside today," Harry said as he went back to Remus and threw a casual arm around his shoulders, falling into a chair beside him as he said, "Come on, let's go eat. I know a really great Muggle place on the edge of London. Really good Italian food."

Remus shook his head. "No, I've got errands to run. You two have fun."

"No errands," Harry said, grabbing his good arm and pulling him up. "Look, there's no monitoring spell yet. We might as well go out and get a good meal while you can still move about. Plus, it's a Muggle place. There won't be anyone there we know."

When Remus still looked noncompliant, Harry leaned forward with a devious grin and said, "I still have half of my seventh day left, godfather." And Remus laughed and briefly dropped his hand on Harry's head as he went to retrieve his heavy coat from the bedroom.

They disillusioned for several blocks then apparated to a dark, moist alley behind the restaurant where streetlight glinted sharply off the shiny black pavement. Rounding the corner, they merged with light foot traffic, people bundled up and laughing as they walked, obviously looking forward to the places they headed and the people they'd meet.

Remus had forgotten it was Friday. It had been a long time since he had experienced the concept of a Friday night out for anything at all, let alone a nice dinner.

Inside, the old brick building was dimly lit and crowded; a low ceiling, original thick brick walls and dark polished hardwood floors, well-restored. Remus absorbed the atmosphere and the rich, succulent smells of food prepared with pride and care. He took in the cloth napkins and white china dishes, the thick wilting candles and leather menus. The place practically reeked "pricey," and a deep-seated alarm went off in his head.

Some of the diners glanced up as the three followed their hostess, the sounds of quiet chatter and metal lightly scraping on china echoing as they walked by. Remus caught the attention of an attractive, older woman whose eyes darted to the scars on his face but she smiled at him warmly when his eyes traveled to hers in passing. He returned a small smile and dropped his head, touched at the front of his sweater self-consciously as they were maneuvered to a free space along the far wall.

It suddenly hit Remus how anonymous he felt here, and he relaxed. Muggles didn't suspect a dangerous case of Lycanthropy when they saw his scars. They didn't see a threat. They saw someone who had felt great pain. Maybe they wondered what had happened, but they never assumed he was a werewolf. Because such a thing couldn't possibly exist…

The three of them slid into a booth, Harry and Ron on one side, Remus on the other and the two young men immediately dove into the menu.

"I'm bloody starving," Ron said with an appreciate air, glancing at the dessert list first.

As Remus' eyes roved over the menu, he couldn't help but notice that the cost of most entrees equaled a day's work for him in the back alleys of Diagon. Harry glanced up at him as if he read his mind.

"Remus, sometimes, it's really nice to just do something you want to do, bugger what it costs. I want you to eat well tonight. And I want to eat well. And I don't want either of us to have to cook or go to the store or anything."

"I have every intention of eating well…as well," Ron said with a grin, closing the menu decisively and looking around for the waiter.

The waiter arrived quickly, Muggle pen in hand and ready to take their orders.

Ron and Harry ordered first, then the heavily mustachioed waiter stared at Remus blankly, pen at the ready. Remus gave him a flustered look.

"I'll have a…water…and…." Remus looked down at the menu in denial, feeling terribly ill as he glanced up to find intense exasperation in Harry's staring face.

"If you don't order food, so help me," Harry warned, only half joking.

And Remus gathered air in his cheeks then blew it out, raising his eyebrows.

"Harry," he said staidly and dropped the menu flat in his hands, unable to commit to any sum that big that didn't come from his own pocket…which it never had…and probably never would. At least not for food.

Harry grabbed the menu and looked at him. "You asked for it. He'll have a Guinness to start. And with dinner a glass of Brunello di Montalcino. The 16 ounce filet mignon, medium rare, with a side order of lobster lasagna bianchi and the Alla Provinica, cut the capers."

Remus scratched at his ear, trying to hide his horror as the waiter left; but Harry just smiled happily.

"Mum would definitely approve," Ron said with a smooth nod. "Unless the lobster isn't in heavy cream. Not fattening enough."

Remus finally gave in and laughed.

"Okay, take me out and overfeed me." He looked around the place again, appreciatively. "I wish I could have taken Nymphadora here, just once," he said, eyes tracing the room.

And Harry's effervescence suddenly dropped a level, stabbed by the sadness in Remus' face, something he had no idea he suddenly showed.

"You still can," Harry said, looking oddly hurt.

And Remus smiled. "So tell me more about the workshop."

He and Harry pulled chunks of bread from the hot loaf in front of them as Ron poured herbed olive oil into the small, shallow bowl; and they all dipped in hungrily.

Remus heard more stories about the workshop, interspersed with dreams of professional quidditch careers, fears about seventh year, Ron's latest unrequited crush, Harry's concerns about Ginny wanting to play seeker after he graduated when she was clearly a beater by nature. Ron made a dirty joke, and Harry blushed crimson. Remus couldn't help but laugh.

As the meal finally ended over chocolate cake and coffee, Remus returned to the half nursed glass of beer and said, "I don't think I've ever been this full in my entire life."

"Me, either," Harry said sleepily. "We should just hang out for a while here. I'm going to pop if I get up."

"I could eat twice that much," Ron said frankly, polishing off the last of the cake.

Suddenly, Harry caught a familiar face out of the corner of his eye. In a booth near the door, Ian, the Hufflepuff guard from London City Holding, sat talking to someone smoothly, his charm button obviously pushed one too many times.

Harry could only guess that the out-of-vision person Ian spoke to was a girl he liked very much. Ian's hands played with a ring, gesturing to it occasionally as he spoke – a small ring with a large flower-shaped stone….a flower-shaped stone. Harry's eyes narrowed… The howlite had lost its purple dye, but the shape of the ring and the stone were unmistakable. His jaw set and he glared at the young man.

Remus looked at Harry, slightly concerned. "What is it?"

He turned around briefly and saw Ian, his grinning mouth busy talking and laughing, his eyes never leaving the girl across from him.

Remus turned around, not nearly as incensed as Harry was.

"No matter, Harry. I see them all over the city," he said quietly.

But Harry immediately said, "Remus, he has your ring."

"Nymphadora's ring?" Remus turned and looked again, saw the sparkling ring in Ian's hand.

He took a deep drink of Guinness, eyes never leaving Ian. He put the glass down slowly and decisively then turned back to study the beer for a moment before he looked up at Harry, his jaw set and a dull, low anger pulsing in his eyes.

"You two stay here."

When Remus got halfway to Ian, he sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He could already see Harry behind one shoulder and although his patched eye couldn't see Ron, he could hear the boy's steps on the other side.

When Remus walked up, Ian froze in stunned terror and the girl started then beamed.

"Professor Lupin! Do you remember me? Angela Grundig."

"Yes, of course, Angela. It's very nice to see you again. How have you been?" He offered his hand.

"Oh, I've been great! How about you?"

"I've been better," he said with a small smile.

Angela turned slightly red as she studied her former professor in embarrassment, realized the war had taken its toll on him.

"Okay, that's enough chatter!"

"Ian, how rude," Angela drew out in a disapproving voice.

"What do you want, werewolf!" he spat.

A small cautious grin pulled at Remus' lips as he said quietly, "Ian, I believe you have my ring."

"Your ring?"

"Yes."

"This is your ring?"

"Yes, Ian it is."

"Ian?" Angela's confused eyes traced slowly from Ian to Remus.

"Shut up, Angela. I bought this ring for my girl."

"_Your_ girl?" Angela said with a small laugh of derision.

"I bought it for Angela yesterday at Diagon Alley. Sorry, Lupin. A lot of these things look alike." In his slightly perturbed state, he grabbed Angela's hand and started to slip the ring on her fourth finger.

"See, Angela? I told you it would fit!"

But as soon as the ring pushed past her knuckle, the searing sound of burning flesh filled their ears, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

A waiter ran over and upon seeing the burn fled and immediately returned with a cloth napkin filled with ice.

"What are you playing at, Ian!" she sobbed, taking the ice and Remus, still in shock that the ring had done that, reached out and took her hand to perform a quick healing spell, wand palmed under his hand but visible. She sniffed back a sob as she looked at the healed finger then pulled away to slap Ian soundly, reached down to grab her purse and stomped out the door.

All eyes in the restaurant followed her out then turned back to the group of wizards standing there dumbfounded.

Ian looked around carefully then grabbed the ring off the table and threw it at Remus. It bounced off his chest and fell to the floor as he stood up and began to talk lowly, craning his head back to talk to Remus face to face…or rather, face to throat.

"You've had your fun, aye? Cute little trick. You leave that in the bag just so that'd happen? Ruin some decent bloke's chances? You're all the same! Any way you can get a foot in, screw up people's lives. Well, let me tell you something! We know what you're up to, your little forum with the Ministry? And I promise you this, werewolf. We've all looked at the calendar. And there's a full moon two days before it convenes. Think you'll make it out of LCH alive? Guess again. And if you plan on baling instead… Felony offense, Lupin. They'll arrest you at the Ministry door when you show up. So there won't be any forum. Got that? We win either way. It won't happen. So enjoy your next three weeks of freedom. Because come death or Azkaban, they'll be your last."

Remus stood calmly through Ian's low, threatening tirade. But as Ian made to leave, Harry reached around and snatched him by the throat, his wand immediately pushed into Ian's cheek.

"No, Harry, this isn't the way!" Remus pried Harry's hand off the guard as he fell back against the table and touched his throat; and Remus quickly pocketed Harry's wand as Ian looked around nervously and walked out the door, ignoring the many blatant stares that burned into him.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered and turned to face them, trying to hide from the attention.

Remus squatted to the floor and gingerly picked up the ring and the stone immediately rippled and turned purple again. He looked at it, bewildered, before quickly putting it in his jeans pocket.

"Not a magic ring?" Harry murmured. And Remus steered him toward the exit then turned to push Ron in front him, as well.

The mustachioed waiter immediately met them with a hint of authoritative warning in his voice, a manager striding up behind him for backup. "Is there a problem, gentleman?"

"No problem at all, sir. We were just leaving. Thank you for a wonderful meal."

"Money and tip are on the table," Harry added quickly, and Remus pushed him lightly forward.

The man bowed his head slightly but never removed his warning gaze from the three, as they walked out uncomfortably.

They apparated back to Harry's flat and walked up the stairs, talking quietly and seriously, but as they reached the flat entrance, Remus stopped, eyes darting.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Someone's there," he said, drawing his wand and pointing to the dark shadow by Harry's door. "Show yourself."

Suddenly, the brick wall shimmered and a small, thin man stood shivering and holding his arm.

The three looked at him, and the man looked back. Several heavy seconds passed.

"Remus Lupin, my name is Campbell Sturgeon. You knew my brother, Tom? Tom Sturgeon?" he said shakily.

"Yes."

And Remus pocketed his wand and walked forward, touching the man's arm in cautious concern. He looked like he was about to collapse. "Are you alright?"

Campbell nodded spastically and his eyes went to Ron and Harry then back to Remus.

"I-I-I……" He took a deep breath. "I know about the forum." He steeled himself with another deep breath and nodded. "I work for Dolores Umbridge. I want to help."

**tbc**

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_Author's Note: _

_What do you think? Do we trust Campbell? _

_The "If I don't tell you, you never have to lie about it" line was taken from the film "Batman Begins." Sad, I know. (blushing)_

_And, as mentioned before, the term "Venificus primo" to describe wizards capable of wandless magic belongs to Queriusole, and she was nice enough to let me use it. :) _

_This was a strange little chapter, but I had several things I wanted to fit in that will come into play in later chapters. _

_Also, I like the idea of small choices becoming important later on. Impetuous decisions, involuntary responses. Like the quote says, choices are the hinges of destiny. And those choices don't always have to be grand and dramatic. Was the ring worth Remus' confrontation? Hmm… _

_Last but not least, I wanted to explore Kingsley's life in a bit more detail, because he and his son will be greatly affected by what's to come, as well. _

_There will be a jump in time between this chapter and the next. Chapter 12 will begin the day of the next full moon, and life won't be so laid back from here on out. Hang on to your wands, because things are about to get damned ugly. But before that…perhaps some good old fashioned lovin' (big grin). The next chapter will be rated M although the rest of this story is rated T. _

_Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. You guys make it all worthwhile._

_Cheers,_

_rane_


	12. Convictions

_Author's Note: This chapter is rated T. The next chapter will be rated M. _

* * *

"_To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved."_

_George Macdonald_

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****Chapter 12 – "Convictions"**

Harry sat in the den, nervously tapping his fingers on Sirius' chair as he did some reading ahead for seventh year transfiguration. He glanced at the clock… 9:15 pm…only fifteen minutes past the last time he had looked.

Deep in the Dark Forest, the forum member meeting had started at 8:00. Remus had left at 7:30, said he'd return by 10:00. It should be okay….Just two and half hours someplace off limits, while his recently conjured double lay sleeping in the other room with "a bad bad cold."

It had taken them hours to brew the two-of-one potion but not long at all to transfer the monitoring spell from Remus to the double. That bloody spell….it dragged on Lupin's state of mind like a twenty pound collar of silver.

Umbridge's black clad personal guards had installed it personally two weeks ago, with no paperwork or stipulations. It was her vindictive rebuttal after Kingsley had first refused to follow orders, then Moody in his wake.

So for the past fourteen days, Remus had stayed put, had only ventured out to visit the city library or the farmer's market; the park once for a much-needed walk and the Muggle picture show twice with Harry to see _An American Werewolf in_ _London_, which made them both laugh.

He showered twice a day, dressed for company, sent furtive owl messages several times a day, and sat at the kitchen table as if the forum work were a 9 to 5 job. Tonks came by often. And Harry had stayed close to home but not because he feared some badly-timed calamity. He just liked spending time with Remus and wanted to help with the forum.

Even better, Remus had shared countless memories -- turning Filch into a cat during Mrs. Norris' mating season, James' nascent and numerable mistakes in wooing Lily, the first night out with the Marauders as animagi, how Lily had become an unexpected friend and confidant……How war and tragedy struck…How hope had fled…How seeing Harry again for the first time in so many years, he had regretted staying away. How time missed was not always time lost, he hoped.

Lost in thought, looking at the pages but not actually reading, Harry heard a light tapping on the door and traced his eyes nervously before getting up to answer.

"Hello, Harry!" Campbell Sturgeon said with a timid smile. "I'm looking for Remus. We had a meeting this afternoon, but he didn't show."

"Oh…" Harry blinked in confusion. "Uhm, I sent you an owl. It didn't find you?"

"Well, I've been disillusioned most of the day. And an owl won't-"

"Yeah, I know."

Did the tracking orb show some sort of difference? Was Campbell here to check, covertly, for a double? Suddenly, Hedwig landed on the sill just as Harry realized he subconsciously blocked Campbell's entrance to the flat with his body.

"Come in," he said quickly then moved to let Hedwig in and drop the undelivered note in the trashcan. "Remus is very sick. The flu hits werewolves especially hard. He told me he had an appointment with you, and I sent a note to let you know he couldn't make it."

"Well, I have some very important information for him."

"Campbell, he really is bad off. He was awake all night with chills and coughing. If I wake him up now, he probably won't be able to go back to sleep."

"I really need to ask him a question."

"I thought you had information," Harry said, his voice tight.

"Well, yes I do, but I also need to ask him something very important."

Harry felt all the blood in his body freeze. They hadn't done a great job on Remus' double, and interaction would be minimal, at best. Nevertheless, he nodded to Campbell and motioned to the closed door by the kitchen. Campbell entered the dark bedroom and took off his hat, clutching it in both hands as he walked to the bed. Harry clicked on the lamp.

The double lay in the bed, covered by a thick blanket save his face and a bare shoulder.

"Remus…it's Campbell."

And the double slowly opened its bleary eyes and gave Campbell a small, flat smile.

"I have to ask you a quick question, then I'll let you go back to bed. Do-….does….I mean to say….Peter Pettigrew, does he know something about you? Something that no one else knows?"

The double just looked at him over the rumpled quilt and blinked.

"Why?" it finally said.

Campbell sat on the edge of the bed.

"Umbridge discovered he's in full isolation with no supporting paperwork. She thinks Shacklebot did it, that really big auror? The black one? She's formed an official inquiry to investigate Pettigrew's rights as a prisoner, since they moved him to isolation despite his status as a model inmate. She doesn't care about Pettigrew, she just wants to get the aurors in trouble.…Pettigrew is under Shacklebot's jurisdiction. I think she figured if she couldn't get anything useable out of Pettigrew, she might as well grill a few hides."

"I see," the double said flatly; and Harry shifted his feet, nerves on edge.

"But what about Pettigrew? I mean, you don't have to tell me. Even the Legilimens couldn't see it. But if you know others who have the same information, I can steer Umbridge the wrong direction…."

The double yawned.

"It would help me greatly if you could tell me certain things and who knows them…so I can work harder to safeguard them. I'm supposed to be asking questions on the street right now."

"Wait a minute, Legilimens?" Harry asked sharply, and Campbell turned around to look at him. "You said a Legilimens looked at Pettigrew?"

"Yes…Severus Snape looked at Pettigrew for her, he somehow got access."

"Severus Snape?" the double asked.

"It didn't matter in the end. Snape said Peter's mind was an empty slate, nothing there to read. That's why he's been a model prisoner. He hasn't lost his mind, there was no mind left to lose."

Harry's blood went cold. Snape was at the meeting with Remus. He knew everything there was to know about the forum….. And he was in contact with Umbridge. Harry fought to take a breath and found he had none to take.

"I can see you're exhausted, Remus. But I wanted you to know she's snooping for anything she can use against you. And she wants to know who put Peter in isolation. And why. It really infuriated her," he said, voice trembling.

The double closed its eyes and let out a wet, heavy cough then faded into a deep sleep.

"I'm sorry, Campbell," Harry managed in a light voice. "He's on a half dozen potions and hasn't slept well at all. I'll make sure he contacts you when he's up and about again."

Campbell got off the edge of the bed then fumbled nervously with his coat buttons.

"Okay. I know he wanted to have a meeting soon, with everyone he's contacted. Please tell him I need to know when that is. I really do have a lot that I can contribute."

Harry nodded and walked extremely close behind Campbell as he made for the door and shut it behind him without a word.

As the door closed, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and breathed deeply.

_Shit…Severus Snape. _

"We've been worried about the wrong person," Harry said aloud. After five years of downright suspicion and two years of pure hatred, he had finally come to terms with the belief that he had misjudged Snape.

And here the potionsmaster was, a spy for Umbridge, playing a role in the destruction of his godfather's life. He'd get him killed. One way or another, Remus wouldn't survive this. And Snape's hand would deal the heaviest blow.

Harry let out a yell of pure frustration and kicked at the table, fingers threading through his hair. He had no way whatsoever to contact Remus. His hands were tied. Harry paced the flat angrily, waiting for his godfather to return. Or more aptly…_hoping_ he would return.

In a small invisible shed near the heart of the Dark Forest, Remus stood at the head of a decrepit, dusty table, listening to forum members go over their plans for contribution.

There were Marietta Brocklehurst and Cornwallis Fletchley, barristers by profession and leaders of the Civil Rights League. Marietta was intelligent, quiet and guarded. Fletchley was more outgoing but prone to fits of explosive anger, particularly when he found something horribly unfair. They had done much for civil rights in the magical world, but Remus wondered if they really understood the dangers of supporting Lycanthrope rights. They assured him that they did. Both would handle the legal ramifications of the forum as well as the Ministry rebuttal, which was always politically charged and often messy.

Across from them was Daniel Hale, the father of the young Ravenclaw whom Harry had seen die in London City Holding. Daniel had thrown his grief and anger into positive endeavors, forming a Lycanthropy support group that provided counseling for family members who had lost loved ones to London City Holding. He had started with a membership of one and in just two short weeks had come to lead hundreds of angry and disconsolate citizens who needed a platform for their grief and anger. He had raised a huge coalition of people who would stand outside the Ministry building the day of the forum "because numbers sometimes speak louder than words," he said. And everyone agreed.

Samuel Spinnet dabbled in local politics and occasionally wrote brilliantly insightful pieces for _The Quibbler_. He ran a fruit and vegetable stand on the edge of London and had lost an uncle to Lycanthropy as a child.

Just six months ago, a bloody and bandaged Remus had wandered into Spinnet's stand and rummaged the offerings timidly, trying to blend in with the clutter of shoppers. Spinnet had watched him intently. The werewolf checked prices and counted his paltry sickles then mournfully returned a small apple to its place in the bin before leaving. Samuel had grabbed the apple and ran after him, easily catching up.

"Mr. Lupin! We're running a special today. Half price on apples." He came to a stop and pushed the apple into the werewolf's hand, but Remus gave him a sad, knowing grin. "I doubt that."

The man shrugged. "For you, we are." Remus had nodded but put the apple back in Spinnet's hand with a murmured "Thank you for your kindness," and limped away. Samuel had watched him leave, water tugging at his eyes.

That night, thinking about his beloved uncle and the bright young professor who looked on the verge of losing his life, he did his research, learned the ugly truths about LCH. And days later, _The Quibbler_ published his first scathing commentary on the treatment of werewolves in post-war society. The article began with the story of a talented and intelligent man who didn't have the money for a simple piece of fruit. It had put Spinnet on Umbridge's watch list. And many local hate lists. But Spinnet never backed down from a fight and stood strongly by his beliefs.

Just two weeks ago, Remus had shown up on his doorstep and said carefully, "I've read your articles in _The Quibbler_, and I want to tell you about the Forum I have planned. I'd like you to take part in it, if you'd like. But please know…it's a much bigger offering than the price of an apple." Samuel would provide a key speech that reiterated many things he had covered, so clearly and brilliantly, in his _Quibbler _articles.

There was also Marianthe Brown, a former Hogwarts Gryffindor and current Beauxbatons professor who held a doctorate in sociology and had written many papers on the history of disenfranchisement within the magical world. She was also the mother of a nine-year-old Lycanthrope named Lucien, and she had abandoned a good job in London to take her son to safer lands. Fleur had owled her on Remus' behalf and Brown had immediately agreed to take part.

She was a wonderful addition, but she made no bones about her plans to write a scholarly book about the whole ordeal. Always one to appreciate a good read, Remus knew her career well enough to trust that she'd produce a fair and memorable one. She would provide a presentation on the history of civil rights in magical Britain and how it currently repeated many of its worst mistakes.

And last but not least, there was Severus Snape.

With all eyes turned on him, the potionsmaster said lowly, "I will be discussing the science of the new wolfsbane formula in relation to the older formulas used now, nothing more. I will focus on its improved and quite beneficial aspects. And I shall provide a thorough but scientifically watered down version of Cretagus Grendil's article from _Potions Quarterly_ in order to ease comprehension for the average reader. I don't want anyone refusing to peruse the included literature, because they find it too pedantic."

He spelled copies of the article around to the room, and everyone thumbed through the pages, nodding.

"What about you, Remus?" Spinnet asked.

Remus scratched at his nose. "I have a presentation on the economics of the new wolfsbane program and how it will benefit the Ministry financially."

"You're not going to make a personal statement?" Brocklehurst said with knitted brows.

Remus shook his head. "I'm not planning to."

At that, Spinnet leaned forward.

"I think you should. _The Prophet_ will publish all forum presentations verbatim in the local politics sections. They're bound to by law, even if the rest of the paper reeks of lies and half truths. And Lovegood will be there, of course, from _The Quibbler_. People will want to hear something personal from you, I think."

"….I will think about it….but….before we go…." Remus gauged the room, unsure if he should share the next bit of information. "I should tell you that the LCH guards know about the forum and that it falls two days after the full moon. One of them threatened me recently. He said they'd kill me in my cell. And if I didn't check into LCH, they'd arrest me at the forum on 'failure to appear' charges."

"Have you gone to the aurors?" Brocklehurst asked immediately.

"No," he answered.

Fletchley was scandalized. "Well, you need to file a restraining order!"

But Remus just shook his head. "All I want to say about this is….if I don't survive, I want you all to promise me that the forum will continue. I'm making very thorough notes with everything people will possibly need to know. There won't be anything that can't occur without me, including my presentation, written out in full. Daniel, would you be willing to read it if I cannot?"

Arms crossed, perturbed at the news that Remus felt he might not survive the next moon, he nevertheless nodded his head in agreement.

"Lupin, you're going to play the martyr to the very end, aren't you," Snape drawled as if he found Remus playing at an old game. "This should have been reported."

"To whom, Severus. To the Ministry?" he said then shook his head, laughing.

"Lupin, this guard should be arrested as soon as possible," Spinnet insisted.

But Remus answered quickly, "And then he gains the sympathy of the public. A guard, designed by nature to protect the populace, is arrested for threatening a werewolf, the very thing from which he's supposed to protect the populace. Arrested for, in the minds of the public, doing his job. It will not serve the forum to report it."

Remus pulled out a chair and pensively sat down.

"Rufus Scrimgeour thrives on public image. He wants to look good, and he wants his government to look good. As frightening as it sounds, he feels that Umbridge has done that for the Ministry. The Post-Reparation Committee is sweeping out the dirty corners of our world, making sure we have a fresh start on peace. He reads _The Prophet_, not _The Quibbler_. He surrounds himself with those who will reinforce that the world is hardnosed and believes in the way he's handling its recovery. And he has no interest in the civil liberties of those who are being swept away. He's not interested in grey areas, he's interested in black and white. But what this forum will do is prove that a good portion of his white world is black in disguise. And pretty much anything left over is grey."

"Public perception is one thing, but if you check into LCH this time, you go to certain death," Daniel Hale said firmly.

After a moment of silence, Remus finally said in an odd voice, "All death is certain….I don't believe they'll succeed, but I'm planning for the worst nonetheless."

In the depressed stillness of the room, Severus sensed the meeting would soon end, and his time ran short to broach a second disturbing topic.

"There is….something else that requires airing," he said lowly. "I was contacted by Umbridge's assistant, Campbell Sturgeon, yesterday morning. She wanted a Legilimens to visit Peter Pettigrew…and she offered me a handsome sum."

After a beat, he rummaged in his heavy robes and placed an ample bag of galleons on the table. The table sat stone still, staring at him with a bit of shock in their eyes.

"I gained access to Pettigrew quite easily and performed the procedure."

"And what did you learn?" Remus said quietly. Severus searched the table and found that only Remus had the fortitude to look into his face.

"I told her that I learned nothing, that the rat's mind was an empty void."

"Was it?" Remus asked lowly.

Severus' eyes roamed the uncomfortable room then went back to Remus.

"No," he said, curling around the one syllable word.

"You've been talking to _Umbridge_?" Fletchley said sharply. "You should have started the meeting with that! Do you…Do you realize the situation you've put us in? This is a terrible breach of trust! Umbridge could be out for all of us now, if you go to her with what you know. By her laws, our mere involvement here is enough to have us investigated." Fletchley slammed his notebook closed.

"What will she chose, Snape? Treason? Conspiracy? Withholding information? What will you get in return? Absolution? Your old comfortable spot back in the Hogwarts hierarchy? Lupin's _death_?"

Throughout the tirade, Snape went whiter and whiter then, finally, a nasty shade of red before he slammed Dumbledore's cane lengthwise across the table, barely missing Fletchley's hand.

Everyone froze in shock; and Fletchley dared not move a muscle as he swallowed and tried to hold Snape's glare with his own wavering eyes.

Snape began lowly, a nasty undertone in his slow, hoarse words.

"Fletchley, I have lived the darkest, most horrendous existence…working within two worlds simultaneously for the sake of one. And you have no idea, you cannot even begin to imagine even in the midst of your worst nightmares what that was like. So _don't_ belittle me with your pathetic little fears and moral suspicions!"

"I didn't-"

Snape stood up, raking the cane across the table then gripping it tightly in his hand like a possible weapon as he loomed over the barrister.

"I performed Legilimency on Pettigrew into order to assuage Umbridge's interest in a possible foothold! Had I not done it, she would have sought someone else, someone who would not have lied to her. I did _not_ ask to have the request thrust upon me, but I acted accordingly when it arrived."

Snape's ragged, damaged voice rose an octave higher, fire in his eyes.

"And if you dare to insinuate once more that I am a turncoat, so help me I will curse you into-"

"ENOUGH! Severus, sit down!" Remus yelled with a voice louder than Severus had ever heard from the mild-mannered werewolf.

"Sit down…please," he repeated, appeasingly.

Remus looked into the wide and cautious eyes of the room as Snape finally slid back into his chair, coughing slightly from straining his damaged throat.

"I trust Severus just as fully as I trust any of you…and I trust you all deeply. I would, without hesitation, put my life in his hands….We are…not close friends. We've experienced a lot of misunderstanding, some of it my fault…some of it his. But I wish you all knew the things I know about his role in the second war."

He looked at Severus, but Snape wouldn't return his gaze.

"He would face things worse than death for those he's loyal to. And that makes his word priceless….I don't want any more talk of this. And I don't want anyone walking away from this table questioning his motives. He's taking part in this forum as a gracious favor to me and for no other reason. Professor Snape is not a spy. I stake my life on that. And anyone who thinks otherwise, can leave now. I don't begrudge you that….I'm sorry, Severus," Remus said gently, but Severus sat, stone-jawed and looking at an indeterminate, eye-level place on the far wall.

After a horribly tense moment, Fletchley finally shook his head and dropped his shoulders.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Remus" he said, eyes darting around the room in embarrassment. "If Lupin trusts you, I can, too." Everyone showed their support in small nods and murmurs and so Fletchley continued, a bit stronger in his decision. "I know the papers, they're full of lies. I just…I just panicked, I guess. Professor Snape…forgive me," he said, standing up and reaching across the table, offering his hand.

Snape just glared at the man until Remus finally said, "Severus, please." And Snape looked at him with a petulant sigh and leaned forward to shake the hand hard but didn't say anything. Fletchley nodded and tried to give Snape an encouraging smile but was fully ignored.

After a long moment, Remus looked around the room and realized that everyone waited for him to speak.

"…I want to say thank you again, to everyone. None of you are werewolves. But I know that all of you…save Professor Snape…have been directly affected by the werewolf legislation, because it has hurt...or killed… someone you care about. And you've all agreed to take part in this at some personal risk, because you believe in a better world and you're not afraid to work for it…. I'm blessed that you're all a part of this…So…I'll check in with everyone the day of the full moon, go over any papers and notes, things that need to be done….Then two days after the full moon is the forum." Remus sighed. "Does anyone have something to add?"

Marianthe Brown said, "Just be careful. I know we all will, but you especially. There's still a week to go."

Brocklehurst nodded. "And tell the auror force about the threat. Surely there is something they can do to keep LCH safer, at least for one night."

Everyone but Snape nodded their agreement and there were a few murmured "be carefuls" and a "watch your back" from another.

Remus nodded and gave the room a comforting smile. "Well, I'd better get back to my double. He gets angry if I stay out too late."

There were good natured grins as scrolls were collected and they all left, one at a time, disillusioning at spaced intervals and heading different directions to avoid any trace.

Finally, only he and Snape were left in the small, damp room, light from the kerosene lamp falling on the conjured table and flickering dimly.

"I didn't need your idealistic stamp of approval, Lupin," Snape said lowly. "Do you really think it makes one whit of difference in my mind what your little band of political simpletons thinks?"

Remus shifted on his feet and said frankly, "…Yes."

"You're hopelessly deluded," Snape shot back quietly. "I told you…it's not a good idea to involve me in this. My name contains too much…uncertainty."

"And I told you…I want you by my side."

Remus sighed, considered the potionsmaster. "I meant everything I said. And I'm sick of people crucifying you, sick of seeing it. You may not be the most likeable person in the wizarding world, but you damned sure deserve the same benefit of a doubt that other people get."

"Benefit of a doubt…that suggests that doubt is present. Why, you just nominated me for sainthood in the Muggle hierarchy of religious perfection, Lupin," Snape sang with low mockery.

"Oh, I did no such thing," Remus chastised, sitting down at the table and rubbing at his own sore knee.

"I spoke my mind, and I'm not going to apologize for that….because I don't get to do it that often."

"Apologize, you mean?" Snape said, with a hint of longsuffering.

"No, speak my mind. I don't get to speak my mind much, this day and age….you love to needle me, don't you?"

"Of course," Snape said, a hint of a smile on his lips as he shut his eyes in exhaustion.

Remus got up and began to collect the scrolls and notes and put them in his large, worn leather case. He moved casually about the room, but his voice was taut when he finally asked the inevitable question.

"So what did Peter have on his mind."

Snape raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

"Oh, many things…..many markedly notable things….For instance, you may be appalled to know that he held special appreciation for your long limbs and…ample endowment."

Snape could see Remus blanch out of the corner of his eye, and the potionmaster's gaze traced the room with an evil slant.

"It was a jealousy of sorts, but he thought upon you often, especially while alone in your quarters..on your bed, I might add…or in the shower, the bathroom, the edge of the forest. And once, while actually wearing one of your robes. I'm surprised you didn't see the stain."

Remus dropped his head and rubbed at his eyes, trying to wipe away the horrid visual image his brain just forced upon him.

"He also had a torture fetish…..He loved watching you transform….It was the only reason he agreed to become an animagus."

Remus finally stop rubbing at his face and blurted, "For pity's sake, Severus, I could have done without knowing these things!"

Snape smiled. "I'm well aware."

With tired exasperation, Remus sat down again. "Well, that's about par for the course. Sirius got all the girls, save the best one, whom James got…and I had the unfortunate secret crush of my grubby little roommate…..who, if it couldn't get even more disgusting, had sexual fantasies watching me bleed….It makes sense, though. Peter never did anything difficult unless it benefited him personally. He was far from selfless."

Snape smirked then went serious. "Pettigrew should have Legilimency performed by the auror force. They have a Legilimens on staff, do they not? In the special investigations department?"

"Yes."

Snape nodded. "He has much information about Voldemort's movements during the second war…as well as the first, including some things even I was not privy to. These things should be recorded."

Remus considered that. "Was he difficult to read?"

"Quite so, actually. The auror Legilimens may not have the ability required to infiltrate a mind so thoroughly damaged.. But…you may find it interesting to know that he's well aware of where he is. And he's quite terrified."

Remus thought of James and Lily, Sirius' twelve years in Azkaban let alone his sudden and appalling death, the childhood Harry had been forced to live; and he answered quietly with one word.

"Good."

Snape's eyes burned into him. "Ever the forgiving soul, Lupin, but no forgiveness for Pettigrew?"

"No…he caused too much pain." Lupin bit at his cheek, gaze unfocused as he nursed a sudden thought. "Do you think there are ways to reach someone hit with the same curse? Did he converse with you in any way?"

When Snape responded with a curious look, Remus clarified.

"Hermione Granger was hit with the same spell. I doubt anyone has tried to reach her."

Snape pursed his lips and considered the possibilities.

"The effect on each person is different. Ms. Granger may be less or more entrenched cerebrally than Pettigrew. But I would be willing to try and find her consciousness….should her family request that."

Remus nodded, a bit of hope sparked within him. "I'll let Harry and Ron know, and they can speak to her parents. They've stayed in close contact with her family."

Remus stood up to finish organizing the scrolls and store them away.

"Are you tired?...You could stay with Harry and me tonight. You can't apparate back to the cabin, and it's quite a walk from Hogsmeade."

Snape rubbed tiredly at his forehead then dropped the arm heavily to the table.

"Lupin, I can't imagine anything I would rather do less than stay at Harry Potter's little teenage flat hideaway."

"There's a portkey at Harry's that will place you about 200 meters from the cabin. It's anchored to the bathroom window sill. We just keep a rag over it."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And where did you get this item?"

"From Moody. The walk through the forest to your place was tearing my knee up, and he thought of it. It was actually in evidence awaiting obliteration…it's an old Death Eater portkey, but it's been decontaminated."

Snape closed his eyes. "Is it a small bone, painted black? The carpal of a boar?"

Remus nodded then looked at Snape carefully. "You've used it before? During the war?"

"Yes, I know where it was originally anchored. I would rather not see it again…. but thank you for the offer," he said, getting up slowly and leaning on Dumbledore's cane.

Remus looked disappointed, especially as a second thought occurred to him.

"Well, could I talk you into coming by anyway, to get your opinion on the two-of-one potion Harry and I brewed? The double lacks something quite integral…It's like having a conversation with a drunk four-year-old."

"I'm sure no one would know the difference."

Remus just shook his head at the jab.

"Neither Harry nor I was ever that talented with potions, and, we'll have to conjure another one the day of the full moon…Umbridge will anticipate that sort of thing, and I'll need a better one if it's to pass any inspection that might occur. I could use your input."

Snape looked at him bluntly. "You still possess some of the potion?"

Remus nodded.

"And how much time before the double dissipates?"

Remus pulled out a worn and dented brass pocket watch, the full moon diagram in the center growing nearer to full. "About 45 minutes. Merlin, I have to get back and transfer the monitoring spell."

Snape quickly adjusted his robes and walked forward as he flicked his wand in the air and disillusioned. "Shall we?" he said, rippling and fading into vapor, Lupin in his wake as they headed to a nearby Order floo magically disguised as a tree.

When they slid down the chute, bums scraping on the floor after the bumpy ride, Severus barely had time to spit soot out of his mouth and no time at all to yell hoarsely about the state of Harry's fireplace before the young man grabbed him by the robefront and jerked him out.

"BASTARD!"

Snape found his wand just as Harry grabbed his.

"_Expelliarmus_!" the two managed simultaneously, and both wands shot to the far wall. Harry scrambled for a hold and finally got it, straddling Snape with two hands around his neck as he slammed Snape's head on the floor and screamed, "You bloody spy! Remus, he's a spy LET GO!"

Remus enacted a barrier spell and entered the mosh, grabbed Harry around the chest and pulled him back as he practically yelled, "I know, Harry! I know he's talked to Umbridge!"

Downstairs, a Muggle banged a broom on the ceiling, kindly requesting the noise level drop…before he called the cops.

Harry struggled to break free from Remus' tight grasp, and Snape just lay on the floor, panting and looking at Harry with utter hatred.

"Calm down and we'll explain!"

Harry struggled a little bit more then said angrily, "ALRIGHT! Okay, I'm FINE." And when Remus finally loosened his grasp, Harry shrugged out of it and moved to the left for advantage, eyes not leaving Snape.

"Someone was here today. They said you performed Legilimency on Peter for Dolores Umbridge," Harry said harshly.

"I don't have to explain anything to, Potter, you utterly spoiled brat!" he spat with a rasping voice as he fumbled with his cane then winced, leg strained by the scuffle. Remus moved forward to help him, but Snape slapped his hand away.

"Get your hands off me, Lupin!"

"Stop being an arse!" Remus barked, helping him up roughly. "Harry, pull a chair out for Severus."

Harry moved a kitchen chair forward, his eyes still trained on Snape; and Remus helped him to the chair where he collapsed and carefully touched his throat.

"Harry, Severus informed the forum that Umbridge approached him. He performed the Legilimency on Peter and told her he found nothing but a mental void."

"That's what…the person said."

"But Peter _was_ readable. He steered her away."

Harry blinked, absorbing the news slowly.

"He ensured that Umbridge will not suspect his involvement And now she thinks Peter has no information to share. Both these things are extremely beneficial for the forum. Plus," Remus reached into his coat and pulled out the bagful of galleons. "We've got money to support the forum." He smiled. "Umbridge's money…supporting the forum."

Harry looked at Snape as if he wanted to say something then went to the cupboard instead and began brewing a pot of tea. Remus boiled the water with a flick of his hand and Harry turned around, looked at Remus and mumbled "thank you." He immediately poured a steaming cup, walked carefully back to the table and sat it in front of Snape, as a peace offering of sorts. Snape just glared at the tea warily then looked away.

When he did so, Harry said, "Professor Snape, I'm…I'm sorry, okay?…..And maybe it's selfish to say but not just because it would have screwed up the forum. Also because…I feel like I have a lot to make up to you…As much as you hate me, you've looked out for me. And…after the war, it's become even harder to lose people. It hurts even worse…people don't have to die to be lost to you."

Harry looked at Remus pointedly when he said that, and Remus felt his face turn hot. He knew Harry referred to his scarcity over the past year…as well as poor Hermione's status as a mind lost to war.

But Snape just answered flatly, "I have absolutely no interest in emotionally bonding with you, Potter."

And Harry surprised him by laughing.

"I don't want to bond with you, either. I just..want to know you better. And I want something better for you."

Snape refused to answer and looked around the flat, eyes darting impatiently. "I believe there's a two-of-one potion I need to peruse?"

"You've come here to see our potion?" Harry asked, somewhat lighter.

"Yes, I have come here to see your potion. I did not drop by for a spot of tea. Or small talk. Your floo is disgusting, by the way."

Harry smiled. "I know. It keeps the reporters out. For the most part, they're pretty vain. They don't like to get dirty."

Remus checked his pocket watch and quickly walked into the bedroom, distinctly said "_alterutra"_ and leaned into the body of his double. For a minute, the two blurred together then apart, and Snape felt like he had just polished off a bottle of firewhiskey. Remus followed the first spell with "_adhocambo"_ and the double disappeared, leaving only Remus on the bed.

He traced his eye for a moment then said, "The monitoring spell realigned perfectly."

"And where is the potion?" Snape croaked impatiently.

Remus removed a large corked bottle from the nightstand. Snape immediately tapped it with his wand and a scrolling list of methods and ingredients moved upward. Snape shook his head in disapproval.

"You rushed the final addition of fluxweed before the single counter-clockwise stir. And you used devil's foot in lieu of devil's claw, which is far from an acceptable substitution. Even more egregious, you failed to add erumpent fluid entirely, which is integral to leaving enough cerebral shadowing for the double to converse in an articulate fashion."

Remus raised his eyebrows as he got up from the edge of the bed. "Well, potions was always my worst subject."

"Mine, too," Harry said quietly, realizing most of the mistakes were his.

"Dispose of this properly," Snape said, re-corking the bottle in disgust and handing it to Remus. "In the interest of safety and effectiveness, I think it would be best if I made the dosage you'll require next week."

Remus nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Severus."

But Snape was already looking pointedly at Harry, his black eyes boring into the young man.

"That is if I can be _trusted_ to do so…"

Self conscious under the furious gaze, Harry had the common decency to blush and cleared his throat before saying, "Maybe I could come over and learn how to make it properly."

Snape looked shocked at Potter's audacity. "So you can ensure I don't taint it, like those many many goblets of wolfsbane I provided Lupin during his teaching stint? You did think I was trying to poison him, did you not?"

Harry just shrugged and refused to look away. "That was then…this is now…I _do_ trust you. …I just want to help."

Severus grudgingly admitted to himself that Harry seemed sincere, yet he still said, "I work alone." But when Potter looked somewhat disappointed, he added, "Perhaps I will include it in the seventh year potions syllabus for your benefit, along with notes for the new professor to make sure it is taught."

Harry nodded and tried to smile but still felt somewhat wretched.

"As I said before, I'd rather not use the portkey you mentioned, but considering the time of night and the even lesser attractive prospect of searching for lodging-"

"You could stay here tonight. You can have my room. It wouldn't be any problem at all," Harry said evenly with a hint of earnestness.

"I believe not," Snape answered quietly. "But thank you for the offer."

He hobbled to the bathroom and immediately found the portkey on the sill, covered with a washrag, which he threw to the floor.

Remus, who had kept quiet through the whole ordeal, wanting Harry to work through things himself, went to retrieve the bag of galleons from the kitchen table and dropped them in Snape's cloak pocket.

"Thank you, Severus, for everything. Please use this to cover the potions ingredients and keep the rest for your time."

"Very well," Snape muttered, knowing full well he could make a hundred cauldrons of two-of-one with that sum; nevertheless, he didn't want to argue anymore. At least not today.

But as he felt himself twirl away, whisked to the very edge of the forest by the portkey, Snape discovered a startling thought.

In his entire life, in the middle of many a bleak and dark night, no one had ever invited him to stay and rest.

_**tbc**_

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_Author's Note: Please don't kill me, guys! I was in line at a store, taking part in the ridiculous commerce trade we have made of the holidays, and realized that the story had a gap as far as Snape is concerned, that for all the talk of the life he endures, we needed to see it hit him in the place he least expects it._

_Unfortunately, I've stolen another film line (blushes furiously) The "You go to certain death / All death is certain" exchange was nicked from Ridley Scott's Crusader film "Kingdom of Heaven." Sorry, I couldn't help myself. _

"_Alterutra" is latin for "one of two" but isn't a canon spell. Neither is adhocambo, which is pidgin latin for "two together now." Brocklehurst, Fletchley, Spinnet, and Brown are all canon surnames of Hogwarts students. One could infer that Remus may have taught the forum's children, nieces, and nephews. _

_So what's up with Campbell? Do you guys still trust him, or is he a very well-placed spy? We'll find out more in Chapter 14. And we'll have some more quality time with those lovely LCH guards Bailey, Martin, and Ian -- Umbridge's cream of a very rotten crop._

_I tried to get this chapter up fairly fast and will post the next one in ten days or so. _

_Chapter 13 will still take place the day of the full moon, and Tonks will be back for an interesting…chat. (big grin)_

_Thank you all for your reviews and feedback. They're the best presents ever. _

_Until we meet again, thanks for stopping by and reading!_

_Cheers and best of Decembers to you all,_

_mercutio-rane_


	13. Haven

_**Author's Note: Although "Of Blood, Ice, and Fire" is rated T, this isolated chapter is rated M for extended sexual content. I've kept this scene separate, so that younger readers may pass over it, if necessary. Please read at your own discretion. **_

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"_Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."_

_Kahil Gabran_

"_He loves but little who can say and count in words, how much he loves."_

_Dante Alighieri_

**Chapter 12- "Haven"**

Remus peered up at the hazy afternoon sky before he entered the shadowy corridor that led to Harry's Muggle flat. He had just wrapped everything up. Told people where things were, who to contact, who would know what, just in case….well, in case things didn't go well….or went worse than usual at London City Holding tonight.

He had wanted to safeguard the forum, make sure it could still occur. Daniel Hale gave his word that he would man the forum should Remus not survive. Severus, once again, promised to speak on behalf of the science, even if no one would listen. The Civil Rights League would demand an investigation if Remus died and said they were already in the process of notifying other groups. And if the forum failed, they would attack the Post-War Reparation Committee bearing all the right weapons of an intimidating second step – influence of neighboring countries, economic sanctions, boycotts. Hit the Ministry where it hurt most – the pocketbook.

Remus opened the door to find the flat empty. Where had Harry gone? He glanced at the clock on the wall. Four and a half hours 'til the deadline for LCH check-in. And he still had to find Tonks.

Thanks to Snape's exemplary potion, a top-notch double of Remus had slept in the other room while he wrapped things up all morning. Remus nervously checked his pocket watch again to make sure he still had four hours on the double as he perused the sleeping second then looked around his bedroom.

He considered cleaning out his wardrobe and putting everything he owned into a spell-sized small box. It would make it easier for Harry in case something happened at LCH. Then he considered the implications of doing that.

_Bye, Harry! I'm off to get murdered!_

Remus shook his head at the dark thought and let out a laugh. So he settled on leaving his clothes carefully organized in the wardrobe and his few belongings on the nightstand.

After an anxious minute, he found an empty page of parchment and sat down in the still and quiet kitchen, quill idle in his hand as he stared at the blank page. He had to go…He had to find Tonks…Where was Harry?...Should he leave a note? He tried twice and spelled the ink away, starting over. Finally, he finished the letter and ran a frustrated hand over his face then put a fist to his mouth, looked out the window. _That's all you have to leave him, don't you…a sorry note._

Harry's parents had left him so much and Sirius even more. And what had Remus ever given the boy but an emotional weight to bear? He looked at the careful script of his letter until the ink had dried around its edges and then he signed, _With all my Love,_ _your godfather Remus_. Too sappy perhaps, but he meant it.

Perhaps it was best, not seeing Harry in person before he left. Perhaps it would be easier that way…since he had good intentions and earnest caring…but not much more. Even his work at Flourish and Blotts hadn't earned him enough to buy Harry new shoes for school.

He folded the message carefully and touched it to the table as he sat slumped in the chair for a long quietus, thinking about the last four weeks with his godson. The tentative nature of those first days, Remus feeling like a robber among the trusting, asking for two much. While Harry, all the while, struggled to force even the simplest of good things into Remus' life, fighting the emotional barrier his godfather had built to stay secure, buried in a safe, deluded place of feeling at home by not belonging anywhere, not missing love because he didn't need it anyway. Harry had helped tear that apart, had rebuilt what Remus had lost.

_What have I done to deserve such a wonderful family?_ That is how he saw Tonks and Harry, after all. They were his blood.

Finally, Remus got up to leave, but as he pushed the kitchen chair under the table, the door flew open and Harry stood there, looking out-of-breath and harried. Remus didn't know how he felt, seeing Harry at the door. A hundred conflicting emotions sped through his mind as he considered what he should say and how he should say it. Or…what was he playing at? He really didn't think he'd leave this world tonight. He truly didn't. So why the business-like tidying up of things with those he loved? Perhaps because he had always preferred to plan ahead for everything, even the worst.

"Remus, you're here! The Weasley's and I are going over some things with Samuel Spinnet. Did you know he and Daniel Hale have over 1,000 people coming to the forum hall on Wednesday?"

"A thousand?"

"_Over_ a thousand."

"Merlin.."

"Yeah," Harry said with a satisfied nod.

Remus suddenly realized he'd have to come back anyway to merge with the double, and he pocketed the letter.

"Uhm…Harry, I'll drop by later to transfer the tracking spell, but I've got only four hours before check-in, and I have to go. Will you be here in two hours or so?"

"No, I just came by to get your notes on the monthly LCH budget for Samuel."

Remus shuffled slightly on his feet and scratched at his ear. He felt badly for running off when Harry was helping him tend to things. "Well…I guess I won't see you again before tomorrow then….I wanted to find Nymphadora…I just…there are some things I've needed to tell her for far too long."

Harry laughed and then grinned mischievously as he leaned on the door and crossed his arms.

"I hope you two say them and then shag each other senseless until check-in time."

"Somehow, I don't think that will happen." And then Remus laughed, realized the crassness of what Harry had said and shook his head in chastisement.

"Nice, Harry."

Harry put his palms out quickly and cocked an eyebrow before he pulled off his jacket.

"Hey, it just seems like now is a good time for a momentary reprieve. We all need one, you know. At least I have quidditch."

"Just quidditch?" Lupin said, a knowing twinkle in his eye.

And Harry blushed and looked away, busying himself with a new thought.

"Have a butterbeer with me before you go, okay?"

And Remus nodded and sat back down at the kitchen table as Harry rummaged the fridge and sat one in front of Remus as he fell into the chair across from him to pop the caps. He took a deep drink then considered the werewolf for a minute.

"Ginny and I, we….mess about. Quite a bit, actually," he added with a laugh. "But…" He looked back at Remus, with a small, serious smile. "We're waiting. When things are settled down, I have a ring for her. And she knows we'll always be together. I want her to know that she's worth all my love, that it's not just about sex. As hard as it gets sometimes to hold off…. I mean….I think about it a lot. I want us to experience that, because everything else feels so good….But she said I was worth waiting for, too… So before you leave, please don't start lecturing me on contraceptive spells or something like that!"

Remus was looking at him intently with an affectionate smile.

"I…you're such your father's son, Harry."

Remus flipped the bottlecap between his fingers and wondered if he should tell him the things he wanted to say. Finally, he put the cap down decisively and took another deep drink then looked up at Harry, studying him.

"Would you like…could I tell you something about your parents' relationship?"

Harry leaned forward and smiled. "God, of course."

Remus crossed his arms on the table, studied the checkered pattern of navy and maroon on the tablecloth before he began quietly with a winsome hint to his words

"James….he….told me the same thing about him and Lily when we were at Hogwarts. And Lily…well…I was her confidant. She spoke often about James and about…how much she wanted him to….uhm….that is to say, she wanted to consummate the relationship, but he wanted to wait until they were married. And she-" Remus laughed. "She said it was the most endearing thing about him and, at the same time, the most annoying thing."

Harry hung on every word with a look of heartened earnestness then dropped his eyes, studied the sweating label of the beer bottle and picked at its edge. Finally, he smiled, his face slightly crumbling when he said softly, "Thank you for telling me that."

Remus shuffled his feet under the table and took another drink, feeling a bit like an awkward father discussing sex with his son. "And…..well….Harry, you wouldn't know unless Sirius told you, of course, but…you were conceived on their honeymoon."

Harry let that sink in and as it did, he felt slow, hot tears edge up his lids and fall; and he brushed them away, embarrassed.

"Where?" he finally managed.

Lupin's close-lipped smile also started crumbling and he was shocked to find himself tearing up, as well. "Look what you've done," he muttered, wiping at his eyes and laughing and Harry laughed, too, and said, "You started it."

Remus nodded and polished off the beer then said quietly, "At Carraigin castle in Ireland. They went there on holiday a lot. You probably have quite a few photos that James took there and a few that Sirius or I took when we went with them once. They put a warmth charm on you and Lily sat with you in a shallow eddy along the shore. There's a picture somewhere…you splashing away and laughing..and Lily laughing with you…So happy."

"Carraigin," Harry said slowly, committing the place to memory then he looked up at Remus, completely still and said, almost as if a pact were being made between the two of them, "Next month, before I leave for Hogwarts, will you take me there?"

And Remus looked at him carefully. How many people had let down Harry with unkept promises? Could Remus even guarantee he'd _have_ a next month? Still, he answered, "Absolutely."

Harry smiled then took the two empty bottles and put them in the bin as Remus got up to search for his coat and found it in the den where he left it. When he turned, Harry stood right behind him, hands deep in his jeans pockets and biting a bit at his lip.

He raked a hand through his crazy hair, looking down at his shoes then suddenly threw his arms around his godfather and hugged him tight. Remus swallowed and leaned into him, eyes closed and returning the embrace.

"I'm not going anywhere, Harry. I promise I'll be back."

Harry finally pulled away, wiped at his nose and leaned on the doorframe then nodded, tried to smile but found he couldn't. And Remus dropped his head a bit to meet his eyes.

"So I'll see you in the morning? Will you come to pick me up?"

Harry laughed, thinking of the change in their London City Holding discussions since the first one just a month ago.

"Yes, I will definitely be there to pick you up. With freaking bells on, I'll be there to pick you up."

And Remus smiled sadly as they walked to the door. Harry grabbed the papers he came to retrieve and said, "Wait, I'll walk down with you."

As they took the stairs, Remus struggled with the right thing to say as he left but instead wrapped an arm lightly around Harry's shoulder's and dropped a kiss on his head with a murmured, "See you soon." And Harry just nodded and headed in the opposite direction. But after a beat, he called after him. "I'd say tell Tonks 'hi' for me, but I'd rather you couldn't."

"Why?" Remus called back.

"Too busy snogging her senseless!" he yelled so that Muggle passersby turned to look at him.

And Remus shook his head then grinned as he turned around to walk to Tonks' nearby flat, hunkering into his coat to escape the prickly wind.

As he walked down the busy street, people knocking at the shoulders of this tall man with a slight limp, his mind raced. With all the right people notified, informed, assured, he should feel better. But he didn't. In the back of his mind, he had reserved a large portion of his thoughts for Nymphadora and all the things he had left unsaid over the years. All the truths of what she was to him, the ones he had kept locked away. So busy….he was always so busy…and then in the last few years….so battered. And something always stood in the way – disease, poverty, war…..delusion….

When he reached her flat, his hand flicked lightly at the door and it immediately opened.

"Tonks?" he called, walking through the empty rooms. For a minute, he panicked. He had things to tell her, things that couldn't wait any longer. What if she didn't show?

He sat still at her kitchen table, listening to the sound of his own steady breathing and the muffled traffic below, the occasional honk. Just at the moment he thought it had become chilly, he heard the heat click on, the slight smell of gas igniting in the boiler and trailing across his nostrils.

He rubbed at his forehead. A hard knot in his stomach loosened and gave a low rumble; and he hesitated before getting up to rummage through her fridge and found a package of raw ground round. Remus knew the moon sent small, unusual messages to his stomach as the seconds ticked away and the beast prowling within him became and more and more vocal. But why did he have to love raw meat so much on the full moon when the day after, he found it utterly disgusting?

Unfortunately, Tonks arrived to find him standing in front of her open fridge and eating raw ground round out of the paper packing with a fork.

"Hmph!" he managed as he folded the package awkwardly and made to put it back in the fridge. "Sorry."

Tonks smiled broadly. It was an image she'd missed this past year – Remus rummaging her kitchen for raw meat. As odd as it was, it used to happen quite often during the early days of the Order.

She put down her things on the kitchen table, eyes never leaving his.

"Let me cook it for you. I haven't eaten, either."

She walked over to him and took the package from his hands, reached up on her toes to kiss him with a smile.

"It's better raw," he said lowly with a little growl.

"It's better for you cooked," she said smiling and added as she searched for a pan, "I can't imagine anything more ridiculous than a werewolf with Mad Cow Disease."

He laughed and then rubbed at his neck, suddenly realizing how tired he was.

As two hamburger patties began to sizzle lowly in the pan she turned and leaned against the oven, looking at him, her face struggling to maintain some semblance of calm, like she had fought off a complete emotional outburst all day.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded with little conviction. "You?"

She watched him consider the question then let out a pitiful laugh and said, "Not really?"

He managed to smile and said, "I will be."

Suddenly, Tonks shut her eyes and let out a sharp exhale then opened them again, moistened her lips as she prepared to tell him something.

"Go to France with me, Remus….Let me get you out of here….Please don't go to LCH." Her voice cracked but she kept her head upward, her chin struggling to stay strong. He immediately closed the short distance to pull her close and dropped his head in the crook of her neck, carefully moving her arm away from the browning meat that needed turning.

"I have to do this, Tonks. There's no turning back now. And I wouldn't… even if I could."

She held on tighter when he said that. When the meat let out a burning pop, she loosened the embrace and turned slightly, wiping at her eyes as she rummaged for a fork to turn the meat then passed him, letting her hand trail across his stomach as she went to pull a half full bottle of red wine from the fridge. She poured wine into two teacups, no saucer and handed him one as she sat down, tension heavy in her body.

"I know, Remus….I know you have to…and I didn't want to be such a bloody wilting flower." She shook her head and drank miserably from her cup as he came over to pull out a chair. They sat for a long moment in heavy, depressing silence.

Finally, Remus managed, "I'm sorry, Tonks…It's been too hard on everyone that I came back, and-"

Tonks swiftly kicked at his shin and said, "I won't hear that talk from you." She reached out to trail a thumb soothingly across his cheek, searching his eyes. "God, Remus, don't you realize how brave you are doing this? Now isn't the time to worry about how everyone else feels. I wish it didn't have to unfold this way, but…come home..just make sure you come home, alright?"

He looked deeply into her eyes and smiled, finally nodded tentatively, searching her face, his eyes trailing to her lips and back up, studying her gaze.

"….All this has made me realize….I have so much to tell you, I just…..You've…" But losing his words, he dropped his head, felt cold sunlight touching on his hair. He walked to the window and took a ragged breath then finally turned around to look at her yearningly. After a beat, he laughed and gripped at the edge of the counter behind him, his head slightly bowed in defeat, feeling a sad irony in it all and oddly upset with himself for botching the moment.

"I finally got everything handled, and now I'm here..the thing I thought about most all day…and I don't know where to start. A few hours isn't enough.… It's not fair to fit it all in such a short period." He looked lost but resigned when he said quietly, "I needed a lifetime to say thank you, Nymphadora. To tell you how much I love you."

Tonks got up and walked the few short steps to him, turned off the stovetop with a click and leaned easily into his warmth as he let go of the counter to hold her lightly. Finally, she whispered through the silence.

"Show me."

He pulled back, looking at her with a bit of confusion..

"Don't tell me, Remus….show me."

"Show you?" he whispered, brow slightly knitted. Her eyes and hands traveled to the edge of his shirt where she tugged slowly, the fabric of the tuck sliding across his abdomen as she pulled it out; and underneath, her fingers found the edge of his trousers, grasped the buckle of his belt as she whispered again brokenly, "Show me, Remus."

She didn't have to ask him again.

Remus dipped his head immediately to kiss her, slowly backing her toward the chair until she sat down and he went to his knees, barely breaking their kiss for a fleeting moment before leaned into her again, pulling her legs around him and grazing her lips lightly, studying her near eyes with his before he opened his mouth and took her in again, tasting her fully. Heart pounding in his ears, Remus lowered his ministrations carefully down her chin, wandered her neck until he found her pulse and tasted her, kissing then biting down ever-so-lightly until she moaned and he sucked there gently then came back up to silence her with his rough mouth. But the soft sounds of her need just traveled deep within her throat and continued as her hands trailed under his shirt, fevered.

"Bed," she managed, trying to shift awkwardly in the chair and Remus removed his hand from her just long enough to snap his fingers. In a flash they were on the bed, the shutters whipped shut and her empty fireplace took full flame. They could barely part to peel away clothing and she moved into his lap, pushing the shirt off his shoulders as he fumbled with her jeans button, desperately keeping his lips intertwined with hers.

Garment by garment, their clothes fell about the room until he lay her back in the bed and trailed his fingers lightly down her thigh as they finally stopped long enough to study each other.

"I love you," Nymphadora whispered, feeling her eyes watering at the edges as she drank him in and he feverishly kissed her, murmured a breath away from her lips how he had always loved her and he would never run again.

Eyes still entwined, he touched her breast with a trembling hand and she covered the hand with hers. Removing her bra with a whispered spell, he dipped his head and kissed one mound gently, then the other, rubbing his face lightly against her before he trailed downward, hot breath tickling her as he stopped and dropped a fervent kiss on her stomach then farther, a low sound in his throat as he pulled downward on the final pink barrier between them. He slid the tight cotton panties down her thighs then whispered a quick spell and they flew off and fluttered into the corner like a leaf on a windy day. Normally, they would have both laughed, but it had been too long. Too long without each other's touch and warmth.

When he returned, Tonks wrapped possessive arms around him as he nestled his cheek into her breasts, breathed her in deeply and closed his eyes when she ran her hands through his hair. And he smiled, eyes never leaving Nymphadora's as her hands moved to push at his boxers and he pulled them the rest of the way off and threw them to the floor.

He trailed back downward slowly, touching her in fevered worship as he went and after a moment, breath falling on her most sensitive spot, he kissed her there tenderly; and her body tightened and lightly pushed toward him.

Suddenly, his lips opened and the wet heat of his mouth enveloped her, making her cry out, one long hand trailing to her belly, stroking lightly as his mouth found an exquisite rhythm, pleasuring her, the wolf in him reveling in the senses awakened by her moist, hot flesh.

Tonks finally moved to her elbows, watching him tenderly move between her, his hips grinding slightly into the bedclothes and she immediately leaned forward, the movement pulling her from him as she tugged at his shoulders and whispered breathlessly, "Come here." And he slid lowly up her body, wetness from her and his mouth trailing slightly on his chest.

Leaning into her, she touched him, hard and solid, and he let out a small, heartbreaking sigh. And she wrapped her warm hand around him to stroke languidly, watched him appreciatively; eyes closed, brows knitted and mouth slightly open, as he concentrated on the pleasure. And suddenly she could wait no more and pulled her hand away to grab at his hips.

"Please," she whispered tightly.

And he immediately moved forward to push slowly, easily into her. She opened her eyes to find Remus looking at her, searching her face for a memory he would try and keep forever, complete here with her come what may. And Tonks smiled at him, breasts slightly heaving and her eyes closing once again as she reached around his back to hold him, to touch her face to his neck and feel his pulse pound under her cheek.

He moved in gentle caresses, teasing her before pulling out ever-so-slowly…then back into her depths, finding the place that made her open her lips, whisper his name and say "yes" and "oh."

At so many points in Remus' life, he had wanted to be someone else, somewhere else…something else. But when he looked into her face, felt his body buried in the warmth of her, he lived in the perfect center of existence, moving at the speed of light yet standing still, burning in the atmosphere. She was everything he had ever wanted; and in that moment, he knew only love and belonging and purity.

Here in her arms, without a word, he apologized for all the lonely nights they had both felt, divided into two different worlds, mourning the loss of each other's bodies and the closeness, the heat that had made everything alright with the universe even as it spun around them, tearing itself apart while they stood still in its center, safe in the warm protection of what each offered the other.

She cried out in pleasure then gasped, leaning her head back into the pillow, one hand twisting momentarily into the bedsheets. He knew what she liked; and within their throbbing rhythm, he moved faster with more intensity, riding a wave of pure momentum and wanting it to last as long as he could hold out; but having her below him as she whispered and mewed, pleasure evident in the arching waves of her tight body he knew that his body wavered on the precipice with her And when she finally spilled over the edge, his name came from her lips in an exhale as he felt the tips of her fingers press hard into the flesh of his back and rake across, searching for purchase.

"Remus.."

At the sound of his name, he came hard with a shudder, convulsing and pushing deep inside her with a spasm as heavy waves of pleasure spilled through them both; and he held on to her, to the moment he had dreamed of sharing with her on so many nights, cold and alone with a pack of demons as his constant companions.

She continued to clutch at him, then slowly relaxed, completely boneless, hot breath from both of them intermingling as they collapsed into each other's arms. And he didn't pull his body from hers immediately but held her close, touched his lips to her skin reverently and she rested her cheek to his neck, breath finally slowing as she shifted her hips and slipped a warm leg between his, brushing gently at his maleness.

He whispered a cleaning charm and closed his eyes, swallowing.

"You alright?" she whispered with a smile.

"Mm," he murmured, eyes still closed, feeling blissfully alive in a way he hadn't felt in ages.

"Never better in my entire life. Give me a few minutes, and we can do that again, if you want."

She buried her face in the crook of his neck and swallowed back her worry. Just three more hours. "It's only fair that the full moon is good for something."

He surprised himself by laughing and she smiled at his laughter and kissed him deeply then pulled the heavy quilt up to their chins, snuggling into him and closing her eyes, fighting the clock and letting his warmth lull her into a moment of sleep. And Remus desperately followed.

An hour later, he awoke and looked out the window, watching the sun slowly roll downward in the sky, sending him to the unpleasant reality he had to face. He would have thought Tonks asleep, so still she lay, but occasionally her eyelashes brushed against his skin, her cheek nestled into his shoulder in warm, reassuring comfort.

"I'll have to go soon," she finally said quietly. "Most of the auror force will be outside LCH tonight."

Remus craned his neck back to look at her.

"You didn't tell me that."

She rubbed her hand across his chest lightly and sighed. "We're not taking any chances."

He continued to look warily out the window, lost in thought as he held her just a little bit tighter and she turned her head, ran a naked leg up his, loving the friction. Finally, he looked at her and laughed.

"What? I love your hairy legs."

He rolled his eyes, a small, amused smile on his lips.

"Silly girl," he murmured.

"But I know what I like."

She kissed him, knowing she wanted to feel him inside her one more time, to feel complete in a way that only he had ever given her. Just once more before she had to leave and they locked him into that cell, stripped of everything, including the medicines that could ease the moon. She wanted him to remember that comfort, that pleasure; to keep it close when, in a moment all too soon, everything would once again be taken from him.

Just one moment longer to forget that their world could so easily collapse in a few short hours. And she didn't have to say any of that, as she led him to the shower. He could see it reflected in her eyes when he lazily kissed her, traced his hands soothingly over her body as the water fell on them both and their movements quickened, the blood pulsing within them as the water fell, her wet skin rubbing gently against the tiles.

They didn't speak, just hot breath and the barest of moans, shielding themselves from the future by hiding completely in the present.

Hair plastered to his forehead, the water running down his face, heavy on his eyelashes and tracking into his mouth as his blue eyes caught her, she sighed as he eased in and out of her, rubbing gently against her womanhood, "Dora" slipping from his lips like a prayed mantra.

Nothing but now, this moment and the fill of him within her, pulsing and sending waves of pleasure outward from their very center, the soft sound of his flesh gently meeting hers, the feel of him hot beneath her trailing palms. And the love she felt for him that was stronger than any rules or government or cell of stone and metal. Stronger than the looming Ministry malice and the sinister bigotry that threatened his life.

Come what may, there would always be this – a bond no guard, no spell could strip away. One that shielded them against darkness and lit the faraway path to hope.

For no matter where the future led, in the depths of this memory, they would always be home.

**tbc**

_

* * *

_

_Author's Note: Happy holidays, guys! It's freezing in most places today, so I figured everyone could use something warm to read. Uhm…I hope that worked out okay. It was time to re–consummate the love between these two, but I haven't written a lot of….stuff like this. (big grin). _

_London City Holding is next. (communal shudder) From here on out, the piece will return to a T rating, although the violence factor will be fairly high in the next chapter._

_Heartfelt gratitude to all those who read and review, and hope everyone continues to enjoy the piece!_

_Best wishes to all,_

_rane_


	14. Twilight

_Behold, we know not anything:  
I can but trust that good shall fall  
At last – far off – at last, to all,  
And every winter change to spring.  
__So runs my dream: but what am I?  
An infant crying in the night:  
An infant crying for the light:  
And with no language but a cry.  
Be near me when my light is low,  
When the blood creeps, and the nerves prick  
And tingle; and the heart is sick,  
And all the wheels of Being slow.  
Be near me when the sensuous frame  
Is racked with pangs that conquer trust;  
And Time, a maniac scattering dust,  
And Life, a Fury slinging flame.  
Be near me when I fade away,  
To point the term of human strife,  
And on the low dark verge of life  
The twilight of eternal day._

_from Alfred Lord Tennyson's "In Memoriam A.H.H," 1849_

**

* * *

****Chapter 14 – "Twilight"**

The land around London City Holding reeked of floral death and decay, lackluster, earthly vibrancy strangled from it. Devastation waved outward like a Dementor's billowing cloak, as broad as a cloud brooding in the sky above.

Umbridge ran the prison with dark magic. She harnessed darkness to control darkness, an impossibility, really. Did that in itself prove that werewolves weren't innately evil? Magic was, after all, a science of formulaic possibility. To Remus, it had always meant that werewolves possessed something of goodness within them, something that dark magic could attack, could sense beneath the primal bloodlust.

Lost in thought, the pungent smell of dead grass heavy on his heightened senses, Remus quickly walked to LCH, throwing nervous glances at the sky as he felt every hair on his body prickle with the closeness of the moon.

After a long moment, another werewolf passed him frantically, bumping at his shoulder.

"Sorry, mate. You'd better get a move on."

Remus flexed his knee and grimaced, remembering why he always tried to get an early start. Suddenly, the same voice yelled, "Hey!" And Remus looked up to find old the man, all yellow teeth and five o'clock shadow, staring at him curiously.

"You Lupin? The one who's doing the forum?" The man had stopped in his tracks and began walking again when Remus caught up. When Remus confirmed it with a murmured, "I'm Lupin," the man clapped him so hard on the back, he stumbled. Oh, the moon was definitely burgeoning.

"We'll be there for you, mate, the whole damned lot of us! Everybody knows 'bout it!"

In the distance, Remus saw a scattering of aurors along the second perimeter as the sun hung low in the sky and lit the brown and grey field with an ethereal glow. Nymphadora stood on the road, giving an order to someone, her head bobbing in urgency with her words and her finger pointing to the ground. The other auror quickly nodded and jogged away, and Tonks did a double take when she saw Remus coming.

But a pop suddenly sounded and Kingsley Shacklebolt apparated two meters ahead, grasping at the first perimeter warning sign with the nervous intensity of a small child about to wet himself. Remus had to smile.

"Shacklebot, don't you have someplace to be?"

"We're burning daylight, Lupin, you can talk to your mate later!" the grizzled werewolf called over his shoulder as he continued up the road.

"Go on, I'll catch up."

The man waved and broke out into a painful looking jog, heading for the distant and ugly lump of grey that constituted London City Holding.

Kingsley rubbed at his face, something low and manic working behind his eyes. He'd had less experience learning to control the wolf, and Remus knew it would take time. But the auror's deep voice sounded breathy when he finally managed, "Take this now. Here's some water."

He shoved a flat pocket flask and small envelope into Lupin's hands.

"What is it?" Remus asked, turning the curious package in his fingers.

"It's powdered Howlite. I've got a fucking bad feeling about all of this, and I did some research. The stone will show up in checks, but the powder won't. Too minute in the bloodstream."

When Remus just looked at him, Kingsley pushed at the flask, agitated.

"Bloody take it, Lupin!"

And Remus poured the powder into his mouth, washed it down, then quickly screwed the cap back on the flask and returned it to Kingsley.

"Go home before you run out of time," Remus said urgently.

"I know, I stayed longer than I should. Something stinks here to high heaven, though. Something's going on and we can't get a bead on it. Umbridge has blocked our entrance for the night. We can't pass second perimeter, and no magic or apparating past this first one here. It's all blocked except for guards. And Scrimgeour wouldn't override it, not even for twelve hours. There's blood on the trail, two big patches of it over 300 meters apart. We ran a trace? They belong to Neville Bones and Shaughnessy Rookwood…werewolves. But both of them have already checked in, and we can't get access to them for questioning. The fucking guards won't leave the building."

Remus nodded, listening but too nervous to think about a response as the threw another glance skyward. "Thank you for coming, Kingsley, but you should go home. You're not safe here."

Kingsley just nodded and before he moved his feet from the "no apparating" line, he grabbed Remus in a rough hug and said, "Tomorrow morning first light, Lupin. I'll see you tomorrow."

Remus immediately continued walking, chastised himself again for staying at Tonks' flat so long. He had forgotten how long the walk felt when his knee acted up, he'd forgotten….had forgotten….something else.

Remus stopped suddenly as if it he slammed into a brick wall.

Oh spell…the contraceptive spell….

_You utter imbecile!_

Remus cursed under his breath, frozen, and took a good five minutes to panic. Pregnancy by a werewolf…if Tonks became pregnant, it was a felony offense for them both.…Unless Tonks could prove in court that she didn't know the father had Lycanthropy. That would absolve her and double his sentence. Perhaps they could manage that….no….everyone knew. He didn't hide it anymore. And she had worked with the Order. Of course, she knew.

He tried to breathe and found he couldn't.

Maybe it wouldn't happen…. But they had made love four…..no….five times…And Lupin family men weren't exactly known for their sterility.

_Five times, Lupin? FIVE times in three hours and you couldn't remember to place the spell, not even ONCE?_

Remus picked up the pace, realized that time chased him with pinpoint stealth, catching up quickly. And then the mind games started.

He didn't want to make excuses, but part of him understood why it had happened. They hadn't made love since he and Tonks had stayed at the Burrow the night of Dumbledore's funeral…nearly two years ago. And the magic of having her in his arms, touching him…They were both so desperate to share those things again….to complete each other…God, he couldn't remember anything at all…nothing but her.

Remus let out a frustrated breath. Why did he do that? Why did he always get caught up in moments and totally forget the practical, important, solid things that had to take place. He had done that time and time again in his life. It had cost him jobs. And now it could cost Tonks hers. And much more. She would pay for his mistake.

He looked up to find her getting closer, walking towards him and he towards her. And

before he realized it, he stood in front of Tonks, looking into her tense face. He could only stare, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

"Nymphadora, I didn't….we…"

She studied him in concern and then her features softened.

"I know," she said softly, slight chastisement in her voice as she touched his cheek. When she brought it down to take his hand, Remus saw an auror he didn't know looking at them curiously and he pulled his hand away.

Tonks looked immediately hurt.

"I should have remembered!" he blurted with more anger than he intended.

"Remus, it works both ways…I forgot, too," she whispered and took his hand carefully, letting him know with her eyes that he shouldn't pull away. "I could think of nothing but you this evening….you felt….so wonderful. And when I realized we forgot…a part of me felt so relieved. It's all okay. It's a gift, really."

Remus shook his head, incredulous. "How can you say that!"

"No more of them controlling us that way, Remus….No more," Tonks said, her voice resolute. "I love you. And I don't want the Ministry between us. I don't want them controlling our lives that way. And this is where it starts. If we love each other, we fight for that love. We don't let them ruin our lives."

"But we discussed children before. We decided to wait and see what would happen politically….Right now is the worst of all possible times. It's a _crime_, Nymphadora…If you became pregnant….Nymphadora, this world." Remus suddenly looked terrified and dropped his head, throwing a hand over his eyes when his face crumbled.

"I'm so sorry," he barely managed through the tears. And Tonks immediately melted into his arms, rubbed gently at his back. She'd been waiting for the dam to break all month and wasn't surprised this was the thing to do it. Through everything that had happened, she'd watched him carefully patching the cracks, but the thought of a baby in the midst of all this…well, it was the proverbial torrential downpour.

When he finally pulled away, something terrible but possibly necessary occurred to him. His eyes traced the ground, his voice hesitant and without looking up, he began,

"Would you consider…"

"No," Tonks said, her voice dangerous. "You knew that before you started to ask."

He nodded, sniffing.

"And you're missing the bigger point. I'm looking at the possibility of having a baby with the man I love. And if it happens, we'll love this child no matter what…pink hair…full moon issues….boy or girl."

Remus still looked troubled but something flickered in his face like a glimmer of hope.

"Bartholomew Rangune at St. Mungo's….he delivered Kingsley's child, looks after him. If you do get pregnant and the baby had Lycanthropy, he wouldn't report it."

"Then I'd go to Rangune."

Remus nodded, wiped at his mouth in shock. Everything was happening at once. And one hour 'til transformation was the worst possible time to invest in dreams.

"None of these people can know, Tonks," he said bluntly, still looking at the ground. "If it happens, you'll need to find someone…someone who would say he's the father, to protect you."

She looked at him, slightly shocked and her head shook denial.

"Remus…" she said softly, touching his shirtfront, fingers rubbing at a button. "No, I wouldn't do that. Why would you think I would ever do that?"

"But-"

"No!" she blurted, dropping her hand, suddenly furious with him for changing the scenery but not the play – trying to protect her in ways that marginalized him from her life. "I'm not going to have this conversation with you right now, not before you go in that place! We both have other things we need to think about!"

"Nym-"

"NO!"

Remus wiped a hand on his pants leg nervously, his face red. He could see the stares of several aurors peripherally, watching them from a distance.

"Okay," he said, managing a smile. If it happens, we do whatever it takes…for the baby and for us to live a good life. We'll….we'll find a world to call our own. A safe world." He glanced over at LCH. "Maybe we'll build one in this country, one action at a time."

Tonks came to her senses first, realized the time and pushed at his arm.

"Do you still want to do this?" she asked carefully.

"Yes."

"We've been standing here arguing….If that door shuts, they'll arrest you and all bets are off. Listen to me, We have access to the feed, but it's not direct. LCH will provide it tomorrow only if we can make a case for investigation. And because Scrimgeour refused us entrance, thirty of us will stay the night at the perimeter. We'll get you first thing in the morning. If anything happens, we'll arrest every single LCH employee, and they know that."

As they reached the final perimeter, the one even aurors couldn't pass on check-in day, she stopped at the glowing line as he continued onward without hesitation. Suddenly, Tonks was terrified, her heart desperate to dart across and pull him back, anything to keep him away from those doors. But she let him slip away, as he made for the lion's den. It was the hardest thing she had ever done.

"It's not too late to go to France," she called, her voice breaking.

And he turned around, walked backward for a few steps with a smile. "I love you," he mouthed.

Tonks crossed her arms as she watched him through a blurry haze of tears; and in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, she answered, "I love you, too, Remus Lupin." He had almost reached the prison, but she saw his head fall downward and knew he fought the tears. There was no going back for either of them.

When he passed the entrance, yellow molten eyes bolted open and the door boomed, "032064 entering London City Holding at 5:28 pm. Proceed to check-in. Do not deviate."

Remus breathed a sigh of relief and a shudder of unease, wiped at his eyes as he looked down the long, narrow hall, saw four werewolves peeling off their clothes at the check-in window and carefully placing their belongings in paper bags. Bailey stood with porky arms crossed and barked at his charges gruffly.

"Awright!...Comeon, now! Shoulda all been 'ere an 'our ago…"

The metallic echo of heavy chains sounded as several sets fell from a hole in the ceiling; and the nude werewolves dismally shackled their own necks, wrists and ankles. Bailey magically sealed the metal then reached forward and jerked at the links harder than necessary to check them.

The chains were unbreakable and unbearably tight….spelled to cut into mortal flesh. Transforming with them on meant immediate death, and therein lay their control factor. They hindered movement but, even moreso, they evoked complete and utter terror this close to the moon's rising. Werewolves who fought, who risked verbal abuse or violence during check-in…well, on more than one occasion, guards had "failed" to remove a transgressor's chains in time. Jugulars severed, they died quick and ghastly deaths.

Remus walked slowly, watching it all like the preface to a relived nightmare.

Suddenly, a werewolf behind him jumped in at breakneck speed just as the grated inner doors shut. When his coat-tails caught in the slamming partition's jaws, the man strained forward and pulled at the fabric, which ripped and sent him hard to the wet stone floor.

"108257 entering London City Holding at 5:30 pm, closing time. You are scheduled for reprimand. Proceed to check-in. Do not deviate."

"WHAT? the man shrieked. "Fucking bastard door! I MADE IT!"

He glared at the sluggish outer gates as they creaked shut, the final crack of light extinguishing with a heavy thud that left them all in darkness.

Remus continued his slow walk to the check-in window, steps from the man behind him pounding and sounding off the grey stone walls. The man caught up quickly, angry breath fogging in the chill. And the two of them continued to the white line as Bailey wand-checked the four werewolves in front of them for illegal materials, pushed and prodded, threatened to probe, the usual demeaning procedure.

Another guard walked the werewolves to their cages, and Bailey stiffened a bit when he turned and saw Lupin, who moved to the window, wincing into the bright light as one guard muttered, "Well whaddya know, the bastard showed" and a few others laughed.

He furtively studied the room and found, sitting among the guards….Campbell Sturgeon. Lips parted, Remus could barely hide his shock. But after a long minute, Campbell's glance darted to the guards around him and in a moment of their ignorance, he sent Remus the barest of nods, trust evident in his eyes.

Remus flinched slightly. He didn't know what to think. Even when the guard named John shoved a paper bag into his hands, he couldn't stop looking at Campbell, couldn't help but wonder.

Finally, John pushed roughly at his shoulder and yelled, "NOW! GET A MOVE ON!"

Remus moved away from the window and stood in the shadows as he always did -- pulled off his tweed jacket, the worn shirt and t-shirt underneath, the Howlite pendant Tonks had given him, kicked off his shoes and peeled off the wool socks with holes at the heels and toes.

But as Remus worked at the belt and fly on his pants, his hand grazed the front pocket and he felt the ring there. He slid down the wall in defeat, eyes closed. So he had forgotten the contraceptive spell….and when he remembered it, he spent his precious few remaining moments with Tonks arguing about it….and forgot to give her the ring. He knocked his head gently against the wall and did the only thing he could do. He burst out in quiet laughter.

Bailey leaned against the far wall, looking at him suspiciously.

"What you laughin' at? 'Urry up! Get those clothes into the bag!"

Still smiling, Remus threw the threadbare clothes into the bag then, one-handedly, tied the inner pocket of his trousers around the ring and folded them to slightly secure the pocket against prodding hands. When he finally got up and placed the bag carefully on the counter, he heard chains fall from the ceiling and with a resigned sigh turned to shackle himself.

The floor was cold beneath his bare feet, the chains like ice cutting into his neck and limbs. All the while, the second werewolf muttered about his reprimand and what the hell would it be, Bailey! Sick of listening to the 108257's low complaints, John stormed from the guard quarters gripping a wand-club tightly and dropped the man with a quick and viscous blow to the head.

"THERE! There's your reprimand, you fucking waste of time," John muttered as he returned to the guard room. The werewolf balled up in pain and clutched at his head. Bailey shifted on his feet, hoping they wouldn't have to deal with a transforming death right here at check-in. The smell would linger for days, even with a scourgify spell.

"Alright, on yer feet," he finally drolled, bored with it all, and Remus reached down to help the man up as best he could with both of them shackled.

"You alright?" he asked lowly.

Looking down, the man gave a small nod, a small patch of blood matting his hair and seeping through his fingers, trickling down his ear.

Bailey flicked his wand and the stone wall vapored away to reveal the first dark long hallway. Just like every werewolf seemed to do at the first wave of freezing air, Remus folded arms across his stomach and privates, trying to preserve any amount of warmth before the cold seeped every last bit of comfort from him.

Bailey looked over his shoulder, blank-faced and muttered, "You two know the way. Come awn now." But he walked slow…slower than usual; and Remus felt a knot forming in his belly as the seconds ticked away.

Their heavy chains clattered and scraped, echoed down the hallway as Remus glanced to the right, saw row after row of eyes, men huddled on the floor near the bars, watching him pass. Some nodded to him and one whispered, "We know." And another, "We'll be there." Bailey missed it all over his sketchy whistling and the scraping of his wand across the thatched bars as he sauntered forward, his cadence slow and deliberate.

Suddenly from behind Remus, the other werewolf shakily managed, "Oi….You know me? You recognize me?

Remus didn't turn at first, still concerned with Bailey's slow pace, his feet nearly grazing the guard's heels. When they reached a blue flame nestled in ceiling, Remus turned and looked at the man, his face lit slightly in the low flame before they walked forward enough to lose its glow. Remus smiled as he turned around.

"Yes, I think I do."

The werewolf wondered if Remus feigned recognition out of politeness. "At St. Mungo's years ago, the day I got bit? You dropped by to see a mate and came over to talk to me, remember?"

Remus nodded, eyes focused on Bailey's sluggish steps.

"I was being a real ass that day, smarted off to your mate and said I'd bite him! But you came over anyway. Said don't let others define me…that only I could do that. Told me it wouldn't be easy….Hard words, but you told me the truth, mate. And you were kind."

The corridor ended in a door leading to stairs, where their heavy chains snagged on sharp edges, the short links barely leaving them space to walk upwards. The other man grunted in pain and lifted his chained wrists to clutch at the wall as he struggled to raise his legs. Remus knew he still suffered from the blow. He talked as if the words kept him conscious.

"Last bit of goodness I ever saw, really, you going out of your way to talk to me that day? But we're going to be there for you on Wednesday, Lupin. All of us."

"'Ere now!"

Bailey didn't like the furtive chatter and stopped, heavy guard's wand resting on his shoulder. In the dim and quiet stairwell, Remus could hear water droplets echo off the cold stone, only Bailey's breath visible now, his clothes keeping him warm. The guard's vantage point six steps up gave him a good two feet on Lupin, and he liked looking down on the werewolf for a change.

"You two been lollygagging an' won' shut up! An' you 'ave…three minutes….to get caged in, see."

Bailey lit the tip of his wand to study their faces, and when Remus didn't say anything, the other werewolf picked up the slack.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Bailey sir! We apologize for talking and being slow! We're ready to go to our cages now, sir!"

But Bailey just stared at Remus then said in a strange voice, "Whadabout you? You ready for the cage?"

"Yes, sir," Remus stated clearly, eyes never leaving the guard's. Finally, Bailey continued, whistling as he went.

"Shit, three minutes," the other werewolf murmured. "………Are they trying to kill you tonight?"

"Probably," Remus whispered back.

"And I show up late today and get to go down with you!" The man chuckled sadly, as Bailey whistled away.

At that, a low flutter of anger pulsed through Remus and he said, loud enough for Bailey to hear, "No matter what happens here tonight, the forum will still occur."

And Bailey stopped whistling, irritation evident in the stomping of his boots when he finally stopped at the last door and fumbled with his pile of keys.

"What's your name?" Remus asked, voice stressed as he felt the wolf rising. He wanted just one more moment of civilization.

"Fletcher….Fletcher Kelly."

"Fletcher, maybe we can talk again one day…under better circumstances than we have the last two times."

In spite of his injuries and the wolf that clawed within him, Fletcher gave him a winded smile and said, "I think we could stand that, Lupin."

The final stairwell door creaked open, and Remus saw two wooden buckets by the first two cages, brim full with dark fluid. He looked at them curiously as they passed.

The hall cracked and sputtered with shrill, short mutterings and growls, the blue flames in the ceiling jumping, seeming to sense the driven, animalistic spark in the air as twenty-six caged werewolves scratched at their own minds, teetering on the brink of transformation.

Lupin felt the first flash of lightning shoot through his nerves. Mouth clamped shut, his breath became ragged as they walked past cells 12 and 13. Despite the wet, miserable chill, his blood went hot, his tongue ran over shifting teeth and his pupils widened, taking in light human eyes couldn't see.

Just as Bailey opened the last two cells, pushed Remus into one and Fletcher into the other, they began to turn. Remus felt the metal cutting into him, clamping away his air, and the final thing he remembered was seeing Bailey's smile as he spelled off the shackles, waiting until the last minute before they shot upward into an open hole that appeared and disappeared just as quickly.

Remus fell to the ground spastically, his body losing all motor control, his now yellow eyes staring fixedly at a place in the ceiling where he sensed the moon – that calm, beautiful disc of low light, calling to him as his muscles boiled. Bone and sinew snapped and rebuilt and every pore opened, light-colored hair creeping out. His face shattered and he shrieked in anguish, threw his head back as the bones gritted against each other and pulled away, reforming, tearing his nerves, ripping his spinal cord, viscera shifting, heart and lungs distending near to bursting, his entire body torn apart from within and without and reforming to take the monster's shape.

He prowled and whimpered, confused for several minutes. And then the anger began, the anger at finding himself caged. And he raged and bit and scratched….another normal night for a werewolf at LCH.

* * *

At 1:30 am, Bailey paced in his home-away-from-home with a satisfied grin, watching Ian glare at the wall festooned with large eye feeds until he could stand no more and turned to kick the table, pouting. He threw a glance at Campbell then looked at Bailey with unfettered frustration. 

"So they're spelled to recall feed tonight? If anything happens, the aurors will get possession of the eyes?"

"S'what I 'ear," Bailey grumbled with a shrug and dropped himself into Ian's pulled-out chair. "I don't like 'em mullin' about the perimeter, either…..But I took Lupin's chains off last minute tonight! Gave 'em a right good scare!"

Bailey brightened, and Ian laughed at the thought of Lupin gasping like a fish out of water.

"Well, at least we got a jab in, right John?"

Napping with his feet propped up, John managed a grumble.

Martin exited his private office for the first time since the moon rose, mouth pursed as he considered the howling and erratic pounding that shook the walls.

"Hm," he said quietly. "Seems like our occupants have bedded down for the night," he crowed with a light laugh."

Head buried in his forms, Campbell dug in his coat pocket and said timidly, "Martin, I have a note for you from Minister Umbridge."

When Martin walked over and stared at Campbell pointedly, the younger man refused to look back, quill shaking slightly as he scratched away at his notes.

"And, Mr. Sturgeon, you're here today because…"

Campbell looked up, his forehead beaded with sweat despite the chill that clung from the nearby cells.

"Oh, well, Mr. Rookwood, sir. Minister Umbridge sent me for the bi-yearly inspection. You remember I was here in July for the first one? It's just paperwork, you know. I'll leave as soon as check-out is over."

"Yes, of course," Martin said, all business, his lips still pursed as he studied the assistant.

Finally, he turned on his heel, eyes raking the other guards who looked at him closely. He took the letter into his office and shut the door; and all eyes turned back to Campbell.

John took his feet off the table and asked gruffly, "What you think, Sturgeon? Did that werewolf deserve to go down tonight?"

When Campbell just shrugged and focused on his paperwork, Ian spoke up like a spoiled school bully whose havoc had just been quelled.

"You could lose your job, Sturgeon, if he talks, makes things look bad. We all could, and how'd you like that! Out on your ear and these animals free to bite people? People like your brother? We'd be doing Britain a bloody favor, trashing that piece of shit for all the trouble he wants to cause!"

Campbell dropped the clipboard to his lap and did a passable job of looking calm..but not too calm.

"It's not safe to try anything tonight, Ian. There would be too many questions. But Umbridge knows this Remus Lupin needs to be…dispatched. Eventually, he'll get what's coming to him. People always do."

The guards met his encouraging smile with blank stares.

In privacy, Martin relaxed into the throne-like leather executive's chair he had recently ordered, ran a palm over the polished oak of his lovely desk. He looked curiously at the scroll in front of him, sealed in bright pink wax and, it seemed, closed with an impenetrable spell. He tapped it with his wand and stated clearly, "I am Martin Rookwood," and the seal broke.

As he read the message, his eyes widened in shock and then, ever-so-slowly, he smiled. Then he laughed. Oh dear…ohhhh myohmy. What perfection. That Dolores….she was brilliant and cunning. And it filled him to the hilt with pride that she chose him to complete her plan. He would not let her down. And my, what a service he would provide with just this one act. This was real work. This was what it meant to make a difference.

He stood up with great purpose and stretched his neck, checked his fingernails and straightened his uniform as he took his wand from the thick leather holster at his waist and left his office. All the regulars still lounged about, looking depressed and bored. Except Ian, who glared at Campbell as he huddled into his paperwork from the farthest chair.

Martin cleared his throat.

"Mr. Sturgeon, could you stand for me, please?"

Everyone turned and looked at Martin, questions in their eyes.

Campbell hesitated for just a second.

"Uhm….of course." The small young man stood up nervously, put the short compact quill in his shirt pocket with a swallow and Martin walked over to him, hand on wand.

Suddenly, he drew and yelled "_IMPERIO_!"

Bailey sprung up, his chair clattering to the ground behind him and everyone scattered. John rushed to Martin, struggling with the idea of disarming him.

"Bloody hell, Martin!" Bailey bellowed

"Move away from me! All of you! I'm under strict orders from Minister Umbridge!"

The clipboard slid to the floor as Campbell fell to his knees, eyes wide.

"That's an unforgivable curse, Mr. Rookwood! You can't!…She can't make you do that!" John yelled, still looming behind him.

"I follow her orders, and you'll follow mine. Move back and get in line! Now! All of you!"

"Is this the quill Minister Umbridge gave you this morning, Mr. Sturgeon?"

"Yes," Campbell choked, swaying tenuously on his knees, deeply entrenched in the claws of the _Imperius_ curse that controlled his every move.

Martin tapped the quill twice and it turned into a long metal spear with a silver tip, heavily barbed in four directions but small enough to fit between the narrow thatched squares of the cell gates.

"You will go to the 7th floor. There are two buckets of blood. The buckets are spelled to spread their contents down the length of the corridor. You will pour them out onto the corridor. You will wait exactly ten minutes. Then you will go to the last cage on the left, and you will stab the occupant…as many times as you can. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Campbell cried as his body bowed.

Martin smirked.

"Take off your clothes. You can die naked like the rest of the animals here. A traitor deserves no less."

Campbell's hands immediately flew to the buttons on his shirt and pulled it off efficiently, then he felt his legs forcibly stand him up as he undid his trousers, pulled off his boxers, shoes, and socks, letting the clothes fall from his hands numbly.

Martin turned to his charges with an anticipatory grin.

"Umbridge wants Lupin dispatched tonight, boys. So the auror force arrives late this evening and demands a feed, crimping our plans? Well! They'll still get their feed, but thanks to the Dolores, things can go as planned _and_ Moody can still have his records….because Mr. Sturgeon here will be handling our workload for us, won't you Mr. Sturgeon."

"Yes," Campbell said, his mouth saying the words for him, his mind screaming, "_No! Not this! I can't let it happen! Have to tell the aurors!"_

Martin nodded, the wand in his hand still controlling Campbell's movements, the spell still deeply at work.

"Take the spear and go," he commanded. "I can control you through the feed."

Campbell watched his hand grab the spear. His mind screamed, but his legs, his mouth, his entire corporeal body were not his. He moved at Martin's bidding as he walked out the door; and standing alone in front of the grey stone wall, he watched it dissipate and disappear, giving way to the long and deep corridor, howling and roaring, bodies smashing against the cell doors as he passed.

The air was rank with their furious breath, the smell of their matted, primal bodies. And still he walked, up the stairwell until he could go no further. His hand thrust itself out and grabbed the first bucket. It sloshed - cold and coagulated blood, black in the lack of light pasting to his hand as he splashed it forward down the long corridor. The spell sent it in a long trickle until it pooled slightly along the far wall. Immediately, his hands grabbed the second bucket and did the same.

The werewolves screamed in agony when the smell hit them like a blunt iron, bloodlust tormenting the dark creatures as they slammed against the bars, howling, begging for reprieve, for just a taste of what trickled so enticingly out of reach.

Campbell waited ten minutes, pummeled by the unbearable noise of the werewolves screaming in torture at the denied river. The cell doors buckled with every hit, single teeth and claws managing exit from the thatched closures but nothing more.

When the narrow stream of blood puddled outside his cage, Lupin's eyes went wide, his muzzle wet with saliva, nostrils flaring, driven to the brink. A wounded thing somewhere outside. A Human! Must have it! Mine and not theirs! The alpha in him slammed against the bars over and over again, demanding the blood.

He hardly sensed the loud shrieking of the others and then he smelled blood, new blood, blood like his joining the hallway stream. The scent of other wolves, injured wolves. Others like him and the hallway blood, the firstblood, different in some way. But the same…Human but the same….

And suddenly a human stood in front of him. This one whole. Whole for him and him alone. On his back legs, the tall, thin werewolf loomed near the top of the grate, his eye pressed into a thatched hole and boring into the man, snarling, gums and teeth dripping, pressed into the metal hard enough to bring break the skin. His tongue crept out in an anguished pant of bloodlust, canines shining in the dim light.

And Campbell had no control of his own when his hands thrust the spear through the bars with all his strength, and the werewolf's eyes went wide with shock as he howled and jerked away. But anger brought him back immediately, and Campbell stabbed again, this time harder, the silver point pushing all the way in, the barbs catching and ripping at the flesh. One hooked on bone and when Campbell tried to pull it out, the weapon wouldn't come.

Down in the guardroom, Martin raised his wand and the spear in Campbell's hands jerked outward, tearing a rip across Lupin's stomach. After all, he knew how to kill these beasts. Campbell didn't.

The werewolf lurched and fell, painful howls ending in a wet, wheezing pant as air left the punctured lung and blood entered. When he finally rose again, shaking on all fours with head hung low, he lurched toward the gate then fell against it; and a wide sheet of blood slowly curtained below the bars, melding with the cold, wet sheet beneath Campbell's bare feet.

Campbell plunged in the spear again and again, the tendrils in his mind forcing his body to act with a brutality the mild-mannered man had never seen. He screamed inwardly, unable to escape his own body as he stabbed into the lifeless mass.

Suddenly, the door of the black corridor slammed footsteps, heavy and wet, the faint silhouettes of four guards with wands drawn. One tried to grab the spear but Campbell's body fought back, turning the weapon on the guard and Martin immediately hit Campbell with "_Expelliarmus_!" then "_Impedimentia_!" When the spells didn't work, wouldn't override the _Imperius_ curse that pulsed within him, Martin forced another lunge and dodged it, knowing exactly where it would land.

Campbell could only look on in inner despair as Martin looked into his eyes with a hint of satisfaction and said, "Avada Kedavra!" Immediately Campbell fell to the ground, eyes half hooded, chest falling as the tightness within him that spoke of life fell away, leaving only a mass of flesh and bone.

They all stood still, caught in their own quietus despite the screaming and howling of the floor occupants. How many would survive 'til morning, with all the blood, all the human smells abounding? Not many.

Bailey kicked at Campbell, rolling the thin, nude body under his boot, the skin now coated solid with dirty blood.

And Martin peered in Lupin's cage then looked at his soles to see the carnage rendered by the silver blade. He shook his head in faux despair and turned on his heel.

"Take this body downstairs immediately!" he barked. "We should leave at once to minimize our scent in the hallway." Bailey threw the ragdoll-limp body over his shoulder, and they efficiently marched down the stairs, ignoring the howls on either side of them.

Back in the guardroom, Bailey dropped Campbell to the floor with a thud, head bent back at an unusual angle, his body a sprawl of limbs and black-smeared skin.

Martin shook like a leaf. Bailey was too stupid to be afraid. Ian could hardly contain himself, the joy he felt was so great. And John looked angry and confused…like always. Five others from hallway perimeter posts had wandered in behind them, curious.

"I want you all in ranks. Now!" Martin boomed, his normally quiet, greasy voice suddenly loud and strong.

The guards scattered nervously and arranged themselves in an ill-formed line, as

Martin threw a confident look around the room, heady from the power. He could already see himself in a large office downtown, as he looked at Campbell then threw a quick, smirky glance back at his guards before he flicking his boot at the human pile.

"Poor, poor Mr. Sturgeon…..Minister Umbridge tried to help him these past few months, kind employer that she is. He just didn't seem right. Something was bothering him. The anger he felt for his brother's death, it ate away at his very soul….And these beasts here, they stole his brother's life…and Lupin…he ran with Greyback's pack."

Martin brushed a spot of lint off his uniform shoulder and grinned smartly.

"It ate at Sturgeon that Lupin walked the streets while his brother lay in a cold grave, lost to him. And when Umbridge sent him here for work purposes, he took his advantage….her broke her trust and broke the laws. He murdered for his own selfish reasons…."

Irony dripped from his voice when he added, turning to his charges. "And the guards, the brave guards. We saw him on the feed, ran to stop him, but it was too late….Too late, my dears. But we stopped him before he harmed the others, not because we wanted to, but because Campbell was breaking the law. And that's not the way we do things here. Your jobs are safe, men, and so is our country. We have served the system well tonight."

The group looked at Martin, dumbfounded and then Ian smiled broadly, shaking with giddy happiness.

"Fucking Merlin! We did it, and it was so fucking tidy!"

Bailey laughed and looked at the others nodding. "She looked out for us, she did….Good 'ol Umby. And Martin 'ere got the job done!"

Suddenly obsessive about possible spoils of victory, Ian ran to the storage room and snatched Lupin's bag, fumbling through it like a pickpocket with a few precious seconds leeway.

He pocketed the Howlite necklace and rummaged the clothes then prodded at the threadbare trousers with a sound of triumph.

But the minute his manicured fingers touched Nymphadora's ring, the metal sizzled violently and sent Ian to the floor, flopping about and screaming, the boiling gold latching onto his fingers. Martin grabbed Ian's wrist hard and yelled, "Hold still!" as he muttered spell after spell, trying to find something that would work.

"_Destillo!"_ did the trick, and the ring dripped off Ian's finger, leaving in its wake a bloody hole with white bone visible. On the marble floor, the ring bubbled into a small, sluggish pile, the purple flower cracking under the heat, shattering and sinking into the tiny puddle. Lost.

Ian looked at the wound, his jaw clenched in trembling, angry pain; and he immediately fainted.

7:20 am

When the sun crept upward and nearly peeked over the horizon, Harry stopped pacing and checked his watch for the tenth time. At 2:00 am, he had awoken to a terrible nightmare and immediately left his flat to wait in vigil with the auror force.

"It's pointless, Harry. There's nothing you can do. Go home and get some sleep," Tonks had said. But Harry just shook his head, saw the pain in her eyes, the fear. He would stay, if only to be with Tonks.

Throughout the night, they had sat and waited. Campbell had promised to sound an alarm, to warn them if the guards tried to harm Lupin. He was a PRC employee, and the doors would open for him. And Moody said all bets were off if Campbell exited. They'd rush the place, take it apart and arrest every guard using the over-ridden wands he'd conjured. Sure, the auror force had no warrant for entering, but if it came to rushing the place, he'd face a court marshal without question.

But the night had passed in unbearable silence, neither sound nor person emanating from the giant, creepy block of a building.

And when Harry's watch chimed 7:30 am, set ten minutes fast, he immediately got up to begin his walk to the gate. Moody pointed his cane at the boy.

"We'll be around the back exit by the floo, waiting. And Harry nodded as he hastily walked to the molten lead door, heart pounding in his ears.

The liquid yellow eyes surfaced from the depth of the metal and opened, fixing him as the door demanded, "Your business?"

"I'm here to pick up a friend," And the doors creaked opened, eyes tracking his steps as he went.

Harry ran to the light of the guard window and gripped at the counter, looking in desperately. There were no card games today, no slatternly conversations or idle snacking. Everyone stood, looking on edge as if the ecstasy of their nighttime antics had finally sunk into reality, had taken on a gravity they didn't feel as they had watched Campbell through the eye feed, huddled around the image to pointlessly egg him on, cussing under their breath in admiration, wishing they could have done it personally.

That was all gone and something akin to fear glinted in their eyes.

Bailey's loud, stupid mouth cut the silence.

"Who you here for, Potter."

"032061"

"Aye," Bailey said, already knowing. He looked around the room, confused, then finally wandered to the storage room for Lupin's bag. When he put it on the counter, Harry snatched it to his side and stood back, waiting by the place he knew would lead to their entrance.

Bailey averted his eyes as the wall vapored away and they started down the hall, surrounded by the same sad sounds Harry had remembered from before. Werewolves back to human form, hurt and in pain, the moans clutching at his emotions. But when they reached the last cell by the exit, Bailey took the stairs.

"You kept him here, so he's easier to drag out, you said."

"Not this moon," Bailey said bluntly. "Follow me now, lad."

They walked up one flight, then another, then another, Harry at the man's sluggish heels.

"Why is he so far away!" he demanded.

Bailey sighed, not looking back.

"Got 'ere late. Very late."

And he kept tromping up the stairs.

When at last they reached the final door of the final floor, Bailey turned and looked at Harry, his fat and rumpled face heavy with unspoken threat.

"It was nasty up 'ere last night. Someone passed the perimeter, snuck through. A man. He was piddling about with a weapon. We took 'em out, but he killed some. Don't know 'bout your teacher friend, though."

Harry immediately shrieked, "Open the door! Open the GODDAMNED DOOR!"

When Bailey turned the key, Harry stormed in then stopped in his tracks, turning and searching, his arms out in disbelief at the sight of so much blood, a veritable trough of it running down the center of the corridor. And the dead silence. Not so much as a moan from any of the occupants.

"Where is he? Which cell!" he screamed. And Bailey kept walking at his original pace as he pointed to the far wall with a lazy finger.

"Hold your horses. The end, on the left."

Harry ran full speed and slid, falling clumsily to his knees in the bloody slime as he gripped at the bars and peered in, frantic. He could only see a dark mass just out of his reach.

"HURRY! FUCKING HURRY WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM! Remus….Remus, it's Harry. REMUS!

Bailey just sniffed and studied the grain of his wand before he idly opened the cell and it creaked open. Harry rushed in, unable to breath at the sight, Remus completely bathed in red, still as death. He touched his godfather's shoulder and immediately slumped, shaking as tears began to fall from his face to Lupin's.

"No…..oh please no," he whimpered. Harry gathered him as carefully as he could, laced his arms from behind and across Lupin's chest as he slumped against him, boneless.

"Help me, you bastard! HELP ME!"

But Bailey just stood out of the way.

"You'll 'ave to get 'em downstairs on your own, son. LCH rules."

Harry could only move so fast, could feel open wounds beneath his palms, his godfather's cold back pressed to his torso as he dragged him, walking backwards. He forced himself to look down the body, saw the ripped wounds and the viscera threatening to escape.

Frantically pushing at the door, breath coming out in gasps, Harry tripped on the stairs, both of them falling hard before he cried out, angry and cursing at himself and whispering to Remus in his denial, saying it would be okay. He was sorry. He'd be more careful.. I came for you. I'm here. It will all be okay. Here, we're almost there. They'll take you to St. Mungo's. You'll be fine. Everything will be fine.

And finally, he saw the light creeping through the final door's grill, the exit, the floo, safety. When he kicked it open with his foot, Tonks stood there, Kingsley looking worse for wear, Moody and a dozen others. And suddenly Tonks was on her knees, hands clawing at her hair and the sounds she made, the sounds…the screaming of his mother..his worst memories melding together, burning into permanence in the dark places of his mind..

Kingsley moved to pick Remus up and carry him to the floo and everything went silent for all the unbearable noise about him, everything a blur. Aurors with special wands rushed the building in fury. And Harry was running blindly, as fast as he could through the open door until he saw the back of Bailey walking nonchalantly down the lower floor, back to his post with a song on his lips.

Bailey turned too late and found wild hair and furious eyes descending on him like lightning, fist and body crashing into the guard with pure rage. They fell like stones to the ice-cold floor, and Harry quickly straddled the fat stomach, snatched the man's shirtfront and skin in his hands and slammed his fist into the Bailey's face again and again and again until the blood started to run. Again he hit him and once more and again, screaming his fury. He felt his knuckles separate and still he slammed into the man until someone pulled him off, and he saw Moody's large gnarled hands clutching at him then dropping him against the wall and running onward.

Somewhere, in a place faraway, Harry heard footsteps and the crackling of wandfire, the shrill echo of guards and aurors yelling. But his mind had found a snowy white mountaintop, a place with peaceful blue skies and a vista of green and white earth that went forever. Remus spoke of hope and smiled at him, standing on the sharp precipice of a new tomorrow, Harry feeling that all would soon be right with the world.

He slid along the wall and shut his eyes, told himself he was still in bed. And soon he'd wake and go to LCH and pick up his godfather. And they'd go to Carraigin castle and he'd start school soon. And wouldn't Lupin's lessons be brilliant and weren't the new students lucky to have him.

…..And what kind of world had they built….what kind of world……

**tbc**

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__Author's Note_

_I can already see you guys cutting wood to burn me at the stake! (grins nervously). Let me just say for the record that this story has at least seven more installments to go, and I hate sad endings. I hope that helps. (encouraging smile)_

"_Avada Kedavra," "Expelliarmus," "Impedimentia," and "Imperio," are all canon spells or incantations. "Destillo" is not canon and roughly means "to drip downward" in Latin. _

_This chapter makes slight reference to my mediocre, brain vomited one-shot "Marathon Man" (Remus and Tonks' last night at the Weasley's) Also, Lupin's registry number was first mentioned in the Lily chapter of "Random Acts," which also documents the day the Ministry branded him with it. The last paragraphs of this chapter refer to a moment taking place in the last paragraphs of the first chapter – the day Remus took Harry climbing and promised him the seven days._

"_Rookwood" and "Bones" are both canon surnames. As with other canon surnames that I use, one could assume the characters mentioned might be related to those in canon (or not). But one can blatantly assume that Martin is related to Shaughnessy Rookwood, the werewolf whose blood was discovered on the trail. We'll learn more about that in the next chapter. _

_Reviews make great gifts! (Not that I'm begging for a gift or anything…okay, yes I am (big grin). _

_My sincere apologies for this chapter coinciding with the holidays! I didn't do it on purpose, I swear! (still worried about that pile of wood you guys are building). May you all find joy, happiness, and prosperity in the arms of family and friends. _

_Cheers and hugs,_

_Rane _


	15. Inquisition

_Author's Note: This is one of those low key, necessary little chapters that will set things up for later installments. Remus will be back in the next chapter. (grinning). I probably shouldn't tell you that, but with you guys stoking that fire and all and…(struggles) these ropes are a bit tight…uhm.. (grin becomes sheepish). _

_But as Lyra Lupin said in a recent e-mail, "Out of great darkness comes great light," and I think that's a good way to view this story._

_So once more unto the breach, dear friends…_

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"_Anarchy is a game at which the police can beat you."_

_George Bernard Shaw_

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****Chapter 15 - "Inquisition"**

8:00 p.m.

Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour had Alastor Moody retrieved from London City Holding and… escorted… to his office.

Because when people are milling about below your building and the papers scream with sensationalistic headlines and the magical community's wireless stations buzz with muckraking half truths….you don't arrest a man of Moody's caliber and parade him restrained down public streets…you escort him.

Scrimgeour stood when two men in heavy black robes suddenly entered his office with a stone-faced auror between them.

"Thank you for bringing him promptly. You may go now."

And they left like shadows, leaving two old seasoned war aurors who rarely saw eye-to-eye these days. But they did share a past. And Moody remembered what his old friend's heart and mind were like before he entered the devil's realm of politics.

Moody fell into a chair like he came over for tea and small talk, but Scrimgeour stayed ramrod straight, his jaw working the minute the door creaked shut.

"Moody, I explicitly denied you entrance to LCH, and not only did you disobey orders, you arrested my entire guard brigade! Jesus Muggle Christ!"

Moody shrugged. "Most of them have run home to their mommies by now. But I'm still holding four."

"And they'll be released! I've already received a report from Dolores Umbridge on this matter, and it seems like an open-shut case!"

Moody gave a dark smile as Scrimgeour continued, drinking in the encouraging rationale of his own words.

"Remus Lupin has been in the papers all month with this ridiculous forum thing, inciting all sorts of public fury. And someone assassinates him before it can occur? I see no surprise there. In addition, Minister Umbridge has thorough records on this Campbell Sturgeon's unusual behavior and psychological instability. In fact, she was going to request that he seek counseling just next week."

Moody leaned back in his chair, magical eye twirling around to fix on Scrimgeour, frozen.

"Rufus, you're always so damned eager to pare down a square peg and put it in a round hole. Just for once….why don't you look for the square hole?"

Scrimgeour's ears reddened around the edges. He should throw this bastard in the brig, taking advantage of an obsolete friendship to side-step the law. No one treated him like this! He was the Minister of Magic, goddammit.

But Moody just shook his head at the Minister's rising hackles.

"Calm down, mate, how long have we known each other."

"Eighteen years," Scrimgeour admitted through a tight a jaw.

"Eighteen. A long time. Ever known me to blow smoke up your ass about things?" he grumbled in a tired voice, as he watched Scrimgeour take a seat.

"Please, Moody…at this point, don't patronize me. Just give me answers, or get the hell out of my office and face a court marshal. You're holding three of my LCH guards and their supervisor, and I want to know why."

Mad-Eye leaned forward, ready for a battle of ethics.

"I want to question them under veritaserum."

"Absolutely not! You have the feeds."

"You promised me feed for the entire building. Every square meter of it. And I'm missing the check-in room where the higher ranking guards stay during the night, and the first two cells on the top floor, right by the stairwell.

"And why are these so goddamned important?" Rufus demanded.

"Twenty-one werewolves died on the seventh floor last night, eighteen from self-inflicted wounds, the other three murdered with rudimentary weapons…Not only Lupin in cell 7-26, but also Neville Bones and Shaughnessy Rookwood in cells 7-2 and 3, the ones out of feed range. Someone moved the eye forward."

Rufus shrugged. "You have visual proof he killed one. You can readily assume he dispatched the other two first."

Moody's scowl could have broken glass.

"There's no place in constant vigilance for assumptions, Scrimgeour. We've been busy today. I had all twenty one autopsied. Bones died at 3:07 pm and Rookwood eighty-two minutes later. Blows to the head with a heavy, sharp club. Two separate blood patches found on the first perimeter road to LCH gave off the same DNA and time signatures. Someone killed Neville and Shaughnessy on the trail, took their bodies to LCH, put them in cells 7-1 and 2 then spell-drained their blood into buckets."

"So Campbell Sturgeon murdered them earlier…collected their blood to drive the others mad and didn't have to dispatch them all personally. It's quite tidy, really."

Moody gave him a nasty grin. "No, it's messy, as hell. Campbell Sturgeon has an iron-clad alibi."

Something in Scrimgeour's face flickered.

"Dolores said he left work at 2:00 pm."

"I'm sure she did, but unlike you, we've done our homework. All Sturgeon's 38th floor co-workers said the same thing. But the eye Dolores keeps in the hallway to monitor her employees said otherwise. And the feed downstairs at the guard station says otherwise. And the guard says otherwise. And the custodian. And the building's floo operator. Everyone who isn't under Umbridge's fat little thumb….says otherwise. As do the feeds. And the feeds don't lie."

Scrimgeour felt his stomach fluttering uncomfortably.

"And don't start wondering if Campbell conjured a double. He made it through the security arc just fine when he left….at 6:15 pm. And the arc doesn't allow entry or exit to conjured manifestations…..Which brings me back to my first problem, Rufus -- the missing feed for the guard's quarters and the first two cells. I need answers only veritaserum will give. If it's _true_ that when Sturgeon crept away to do the deed, those three guards were nestled in their bunks sleeping…as they say…. and Martin Rookwood was in his office making passionate love to his paperwork….as he claims…. Well, then, the veritaserum will just validate that. No harm done."

Scrimgeour stared at him blankly.

"But somehow, I think the truth will prove far more interesting….. than a square peg in a round hole."

Sitting stone-still, the Minister considered this grizzled old train wreck in front of him; and he almost granted the request when his self-preservation engine kicked in, purring evenly.

"Alistair, you're an insane, decrepit, blathering idiot. A year locked in Crouch's suitcase has cracked your marbles."

"But I still have 'em," Moody said with a wicked glare, crazy eye boring into Scrimgeour with unbearable intensity. "Dolores knows you take her word as gold, and she's played the Ministry like a violin since her Hogwarts Prime…Super Inquisitor… Highness…**whatever the hell her title was**! For fuck's sake, the toad didn't even tidy up her loose ends, Rufus! In her mind, she's got a lifetime pass to "me, myself, and mine" and no one to answer to. She's playing you for a fool."

Scrimgeour's jaw worked furiously. "Dolores Umbridge is a patriot."

Moody couldn't even begin to deal with the audacity of that statement, so he plodded onward to more rational realms.

"If you think closing the book on this will serve you well, think again. Your approval rating will plummet, I promise you that. The war's been over a year, mate. And during that time, LCH's death toll has hit a lot of people. A lot of influential families. You'd be surprised. Think a pure-blood name, a fancy lineage, or a fat Gringott's account gets you a free pass from LCH these days? Think again. Dolores spares no wolf."

"I gave a waiver to Lupin, Moody. He'd be alive today if he hadn't turned it down in his stupidity."

"Lupin stood by his kind." Moody was suddenly furious. "Do you even _remember_ what it's like to have ideals? To do the right thing instead of the easy thing? If Remus Lupin had fought the war the way you're running the Ministry, we'd all be kissing Voldemort's hindquarters right now. He never took the easy road. Never. He's one of the main reasons we still have a world, and now he's dead…..And your hands are _bloody_, Scrimgeour!"

Moody's growling voice got louder; and Scrimgeour did nothing but meet the fierce glare with one of his own.

"Three hundred and ninety-two dead in thirteen months. Three hundred and ninety two, man! When she takes away wolfsbane and locks 'em in a building together…the scent…it drives 'em mad and you wouldn't believe the bloodbath. And if that's not bad enough, they wake to no medical treatment, not even the simplest of help and at least an hour until they can leave….. Bleedin' to death.…She knows what she's doin', Rufus…When they die in there, it's murder, plain and simple. I don't care if you put a legal stamp on it, doesn't change what it is. Someone out there is going to answer for 21 murders last night, and 371 more, if justice is served."

Scrimgeour suddenly tidied the papers on his desk and called for his guards with a tap of his wand.

"It's time for you to leave, Moody. Be thankful I didn't court marshal you and go."

Mad-Eye blinked tiredly as Scrimgeour shuffled papers and looked towards the door, waiting for men to appear and get this trouble out of his wild mane of hair.

"Last but definitely not least in the investigation, Rufus….Someone hit Campbell Sturgeon with an unforgivable curse."

"_Avada Kedavra_ is legal in law enforcement, Moody. You know that," Rufus muttered as he stood.

"_Avada Kedavra_ leaves no trace…..but the _Imperius_ curse does, and it showed in Campbell's autopsy…..instilled at 1:35 am, presumably, from the guard's quarters. Campbell Sturgeon didn't kill anyone. He was a weapon bearing a weapon."

The same guards who brought Moody walked in and, as quickly as they came, Scrimgeour dismissed them again as he slowly sat back down, wild mane of hair brushing at the desktop when is head dropped forward slightly. The room went quiet for several minutes as his political cogs whirred, and he stared at the chess board of his career, looking for the most beneficial move.

If Umbridge had a hand in this, the community would hold him responsible, by proxy….Or they'd make Umbridge out to be a hero of the people with her act, and then he'd be crucified for trying to punish her….. And if he failed to hold Umbridge responsible, werewolf sympathizers would paint him as a tyrant and nearby countries would increase their influence on his civil rights agenda. From all directions, he came out last.

When Moody shifted in his seat and spoke, Rufus found the auror's voice unexpectedly sympathetic.

"So where do we go from here, Scrimgeour…I've got four ferrets in a dog carrier at headquarters, and I want to veritaserum them."

Rufus let his hands fall to the table and looked up.

"You transfigured them into ferrets, Alistair?"

"I did. Big, ugly black ones, skunk stripes down their backs," he murmured, eyes dancing.

Rufus cracked at his knuckles and finally rose again, went to the window and looked at the odd and unusual crowd below, a smattering of reporters and picketers, no one seeming to know enough yet to draw the big crowds. But there was a buzz in the air, like a calm before a storm, and Scrimgeour didn't like it.

"Moody, we were both soldiers. We know about the hard reality of things, the necessity of structure….I'm not closing LCH, no matter what happens with this case. You may end up charging one or more of my employees in these deaths, but I'm not going to jeopardize the country's stability to save a few dark creatures. To provide safety for the majority, we have to make sacrifices."

Moody looked at Scrimgeour's back, disappointed but not surprised.

"You can rein Umbridge in, if you want…or we can do it…..or the people will do it…or the neighboring country will, if it comes to that. But she's going down. And so are her guards. You just have to decide if you want to go down with them."

"Are you threatening me, Moody?" Scrimgeour asked, almost formally, as he turned on his heel.

Mad-Eye let out a deep belly laugh and had the nerve to smile. "No, it's just where things are, mate, it's got to end. And for the record, Lupin had some beautiful ideas, some right brilliant alternatives to LCH. I hope you attend the forum when it happens…hope you're not off signing some trade embargo or something."

Scrimgeour turned slightly red, looking like a ball of fire with his hair flaming out in all directions, lit by the window's light. No one spoke to him like this anymore!...And maybe he regretted that. It was true, he had a lot of smoke blown up his ass these days.

"So….when do you want to veritaserum them?"

Moody's real eye immediately lit up and his magic one rolled in anticipation.

"As soon as possible. Today, if you'd like."

Scrimgeour shook his head then let out a deep sigh.

"Take the floo directly to headquarters and bring them here to my office. I'll call for the Ministry potionsmaster. And we'll need four witnesses, as stipulated by law. You may pick one."

"Nymphadora Tonks, one my younger aurors, then…..you'll call Umbridge?"

Scrimgeour worked his jaw and looked around the room, something low seething in him.

"I think it best that she attend."

Moody floo'd back to headquarters with a strong sense of satisfaction, but when he reached the cell area, his Greek god of a nephew Octavius, otherwise known as The Gorgeous but Nervous Young Auror in Training, gave him a face that went way beyond simple panic.

"Otto, I'm here to check out the guards and escort them to the Ministry building."

The younger Moody fumbled with his wand holster and gulped.

"I'm sorry, Uncle! Dolores Umbridge already took them."

Moody immediately grabbed the young man's robe front and jerked him over the desk.

"She's their boss, uncle! She's minister of the Post-Reparation Committee!"

"Octavius, you waste of the Moody family sperm!"

His mouth gaped.

"Uncle, I….Sh-She was really angry, screaming at me. She had press with her. And the ferrets…the guards, I mean….We just had them for questioning, and they'd already been questioned. By law, I had to let her take them, Uncle. I followed the law!"

Moody let Otto go and his thighs scraped across the desk, foot soles plunking back to the floor.

"How long ago?"

"F-Forty-five minutes, maybe an hour? There were cameras and press…They were outraged that someone transformed the guards. Umbridge gave a press conference right by the cells, and Rita Skeeter-"

"I've heard enough, don't make me puke."

Moody threw a hand up, pissed beyond belief but resigned to the fact they'd accomplish much. They just didn't have enough hours in the day, and Umbridge had struck sooner. Now it was their move.

"Once again, we've done something by the book and had the book screw us over. It's gettin' old. If we hadn't disobeyed orders and rushed LCH, we'd have nothing ….But as it is, we've got the glimmer of a case, enough to clear Sturgeon but not enough to name the killers and get Umbridge….We need the guards….I'll have Scrimgeour sign an arrest warrant, but I have a feeling they didn't run home. Get on the wand and call the force together. We have a manhunt to start."

He scrawled out a quick owl to Scrimgeour, who immediately returned a note that said, in unusually clipped writing:

_How do I know you didn't voluntarily let them go, knowing they had nothing and letting their absence serve your agenda? You have ten days to find them. If they don't show, I'm shutting the case. _

Moody immediately owled back:

_Let me veritaserum Dolores Umbridge._

Quick as lightning, Rufus replied:

_No. You have one week to find the guards. Until then, I don't want to hear any more of this. I have media on my doorstep. _

Moody stormed in to brief his force and after several minutes, they left in groups, walking quickly and sternly towards the floo and building exits as Moody stood in the empty room, working on his next move.

Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived just as the troves left, looking exhausted, miserable and, most of all, out-for-blood.

"Octavius just told me. I'll have those fuckers back here before sun up, Moody, just say the word."

The older auror just nodded. "Where's Tonks?"

"At St. Mungo's, in the dark creatures ward with Remus. There's no doubt Umbridge has people prowling the place to finish him off, and….we want to take him someplace safer, but Rangune doesn't want him moved, says he's too critical."

Moody's eyes went wide and he took a deep breath. "Don't yank my chain, Shacklebot. He's alive?"

Kingsley's white teeth shown in a fierce, devilish grin, and he nodded slowly.

"No one can believe it, not even Rangune."

Moody hobbled over to him and said lowly, "You sent me autopsy reports. Listed him among the deceased."

Moody hadn't even thought of asking, hadn't even considered the possibility of Remus living after seeing Harry plummet through the door with what looked like a man dead for hours.

Kingsley shrugged and looked about the hall furtively. "Safer that way, having to send messages by foot like that through LCH boundaries? Everyone assumed he died, so I figured it serves us better not to spread word that he didn't. I knew you'd find out soon enough."

Moody laughed and rubbed at a grizzled ear.

_My move, Dolores._

He pulled Kingsley into a side office and locked the door with a muttered, "_Colloportus_."

"Then for public record, Lupin will stay that way. Everything I'm about to say is for you, Tonks, and Bartholomew Rangune to know…and _no_ other, understand?"

Kingsley crossed his arms and nodded, eyes intent. He was desperate to do anything asked of him and much more.

"There are ways to move Lupin safely, stasis spells….we'll take him someplace safe. Go tell Rangune the minute we're ready, he's to officially list Lupin as dying from his wounds."

Kingsley nodded quickly. "You want a double in the morgue?"

"Can Lupin ingest the potion to make one?"

The auror looked doubtful.

"Well, no one's gonna be too keen to lay in the morgue for several hours, but we can polyjuice an auror. All we'll need is a hair off Lupin to make it. It's necessary, at least for a day. I imagine cold storage will be crawling with people trying to verify Lupin's death for Umbridge and her goons."

Kingsley shook his head. "Polyjuice takes bloody forever to brew and doesn't keep. We don't have the time."

But Moody just grinned. "I only know one man who can tweak polyjuice to brew in just a few hours, and it works out well 'cos Lupin will be his houseguest for the next few weeks." Wickedly, he added, "Even if the greasy git doesn't know it yet. Let's get moving."

But as Moody moved toward the door, Kingsley grabbed at his arm with a strange hesitance.

"Mad-Eye, what about Harry?"

In the chaotic pile of memories that constituted his very busy and very crappy day, Moody recalled seeing Potter sitting along the wall, staring into nothing as a paramedic helped him up.

"Where is he?"

"They have him in a room at St. Mungo's. Treated him for shock and gave him a shitload of dreamless sleep potion."

"He doesn't know Lupin survived?"

Kingsley shook his head in sad sympathy. "He's still sleeping. Moody, I know you want to keep things tidy, but Harry…..We can't do that to him."

Moody nodded, irritated that he was about to let his emotions interfere.

"Tonks can tell him when he wakes," he grumbled, a soft edge to his voice.

Then he immediately recovered his crankiness and barked, "Go to St. Mungo's. Talk to Rangune and formulate a plan for the move." And with a hard look on his face, he muttered, "I'm off to see Severus Snape."

**tbc**

_

* * *

_

_Author's Note:_

_Just a necessary set-up for many things to come. Some of this chapter will be important later in the forum, and I really wanted to bring Scrimgeour into things at this point and show him for the man he is – one who feeds off appearances and lets his political mindset overshadow rational thought._

_Again, bless you all for the reviews! It really means a lot to me that so many of you guys are going on this journey with me. It keeps me from feeling like I'm sending braincells out into the void or something._

_Next chapter, Remus focuses on recovering and, perhaps, Severus will do the same…_

_Until next time, cheers and well wishes,_

_rane _


	16. Awakening

"_Associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation; for 'tis better to be alone than in bad company."_

_George Washington, 1781_

"_Be slow to fall into friendship; but when thou art in, continue firm and constant."_

_Socrates_

**

* * *

****Chapter 16 – "Awakening"**

Tonks leaned over Remus one last time, touched her lips to his lightly then wrapped him carefully in the bedclothes to ward him from the cold of the upcoming trip.

"We need to do this now," Moody murmured gruffly, sensing a window of opportunity. "You ready, Otto?"

Polyjuiced as Lupin with conjured false wounds across his body, the young auror swallowed and Moody let out a tired sigh.

"Don't worry, kid. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Your father'd kill me, and I have don't have time for death right now."

"Thanks, Uncle," Octavius murmured with a small smile as he closed his eyes and situated himself on the morgue gurney.

Moody shuffled impatiently, ready to leave with his charge, but he could tell by the set of Tonks' body she'd have a hard time letting Remus go. He put a grizzled hand over hers and gave a small squeeze.

"Time to go, Tonks….have to take a window when we got one."

"And you're not going to tell me where you're taking him?" she whispered, her voice resigned but uneasy.

"No, it's better that you and Harry don't know. If that woman attacks anyone for information, it'll be you two first. And if you don't know where he is, she can't get anything out of you with veritaserum. It's safer this way."

She nodded, and Moody clapped her on the back as softly as he could manage then flicked his wand above them, wreathing he and Remus in a burst of light before they disappeared, leaving Octavius on the gurney and Tonks staring at an empty bed.

Bartholomew Rangune emerged from a dark corner of the room, a long roll of parchment curled at the fastener of his clipboard as he tapped his quill twice and said quietly, "Time of death….11:47 pm."

* * *

Tonks sat in the dark room, listening to footsteps echo down the white corridor, bright light glaring from the hallway, dim then strong again as people passed, their movements creating distorted patterns across the floor in front of her. She hated St. Mungo's, hated the lingering, stripped chill it emanated. And the feel of death, the husk of it clattering lightly along with walls and hovering about them. 

Kingsley sat across from her, eyes tracing the floor, foot busy as he leaned forward on his elbows. She could practically hear his cogs turning. Moody had ordered them to monitor the room for any suspicious visitors, while two other aurors watched over Marcus in the morgue. Tonks knew Shacklebolt felt powerless in the midst of all the ugliness. He wanted to knock heads, wanted to make people pay right away….And so did she.

But for now, they had a job. If a suspect showed, Kingsley would chase, and Tonks would remain to secure the area. And perhaps luck and vigilance would give them people who knew things. People who would talk whether they wanted to or not.

Suddenly, Kingsley's eyes darted to Tonks as his werewolf hearing picked up something she couldn't.

"What?" she asked, alarmed.

"Someone's leaning against the wall, outside the room," he said, his jaw set hard as he palmed his wand and tried to look casual.

They remained sitting by the empty bed, light from a single flame falling on the white sheets, all else veiled by the dark.

A tall man in physician's robes with long black hair pulled in a tidy ponytail finally came into view. Tonks eyed his soft-soled shoes, not at all common for a medi-wizard on his feet all day.

"Hello!" he said brightly, hands professionally behind his back as he peered in and searched the room. "I'm here to see the patient…..A…" He tapped a strip of parchment on this clipboard and said, "A Mr. Remus John Lupin, Lycanthrope."

"He passed away," Tonks said quietly, sitting stone still, her wrist curled back to finger the edge of her wand. Both of them looked for a waver in the man's face and saw none.

"I see. I was not informed there was a death on this wing tonight."

"She said he died!" Kingsley barked, a little louder than necessary. "Contact his doctor, Bartholomew Rangune, if you want more information. And who are you?"

The man smiled knowingly, his dark lips pursed and watery blue eyes glittering. And in a blast of wandless light, he disappeared.

"Fucking bastard!" Kingsley yelled and ran a trace then disappeared in a second flash of light.

Tonks checked the halls and did a systematic sweep of the level, tracing the man's footsteps to a locked apparition area in the hallway before she returned to her post in the dark creatures' ward.

She walked down the hall quickly, then even faster when she saw someone standing outside Lupin's door. But it was Harry standing frozen in the room's doorway, his glazed eyes staring at the empty bed. He had come to and thrown his clothes on, checked himself out.

As soon as she reached him, Tonks guided him into the room, saw in his stunned countenance the look people often have after learning someone they love has died suddenly.

"He's alive, Harry. The hospital listed him as dead, but we've moved him someplace safe," she whispered, touching his hair carefully. "It's very important that no one knows, but he's safe."

Harry stood frozen, eyes wide and fixed on the empty bed.

"….So much blood….He was alive? Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, rubbing his back, trying to calm him. He shut his eyes and finally breathed and Tonks wasn't ready for it when he dropped his head, shoulders wracking in tired sobs. She sat on the bed, pulled him into her lap. And slowly, Harry curled into her, clinging to Tonks like a lifeline as he wept.

* * *

When Moody had approached Snape regarding the possibility of hiding Remus at the seaside cabin, the potionsmaster just raised an eyebrow. 

"Who would expect Remus Lupin to be staying with you, of all people?" Moody had asked with sharp pragmatism.

And Snape had to agree it was as safe a place as any, hiding from enemies by staying with someone whom most people assumed was your enemy, as well. Even Umbridge would not suspect, seeing he had done her a "favor" recently.

As they had finished the final ward, Moody nodded his head in approval and said, "Snape, you would have made a good Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

And Severus gave him the ugliest sneer possible, the one he reserved for idiocy in its purest form.

Four hours later, it had all taken place. And Rangune exited Snape's bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. The medi-wizard pulled off his spectacles and polished them on his sleeve then looked up to find Severus eyeing him with a countenance more demanding than expectant.

"He's stabilized. I'll come by as often as I can, take the portal that you two built from my office."

"Minerva McGonagall has a time-turner I can procure should you require it."

"Oh! Yes, yes that would come in useful," Rangune said, nodding, his eyes still.

"Will he live?" Snape asked sharply.

And Rangune looked lost in thought then finally shook his head with a small shrug, still polishing at glasses that shone like crystal.

"It's a complete miracle he's alive now. Pulverized howlite in his system saved his life, seeing the weapon used on him had a silver blade…. Alastor said Shacklebolt gave it to Lupin, almost in passing..…yes, undoubtedly, it saved his life."

Rangune sat down heavily, face unfocused and he returned his half moon glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"But there was something else. When he lost too much blood to survive, his body entered some sort of hibernative state. Perhaps he's managed to handle some of his past injuries in the same manner. It's not common in the least, not endemic to dark creatures….strange, I must say….if he had heightened magical abilities, telekinetic prowess or something of that nature, like those of _venificus primo_ lineage..that could explain it, but…I seriously doubt that's the case…"

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits and he curled into a slow grin, looking over to his favorite window only to find the curtains drawn.

"I see…" he drawled, trying not to smirk too noticeablybut lost the battle.

"Anyway," Rangune said, standing up with a grunt. "He's not out of danger….Call me if you need anything at all. I'll come as often as possible, of course. Pomfrey will stay with him nights and you'll watch over him during the day, is this correct?"

"I suppose," Snape said lightly, walking the wizard to the cabin's back door, neither of them speaking. As the portal recognized Rangune standing in the void between the inside world and out, he leaned forward and fell into an immediate blackness that swirled around his body, wrapping and twisting about his frame. It swallowed him whole as he reappeared in his own office, the slightest glimpse of it visible as the darkness twisted again and faded away to reveal a grassy field and cliffs in the distance.

Snape sniffed and traced bored eyes along the edge of the door. Only Moody, Pomfrey, and Rangune could come and go freely. The portal would deny anyone else entrance and with a flick of Snape's wand, tear the person apart.

As part of the reinforcements, Lupin would not venture beyond the back porch and neither would Snape. And that wasn't such a bother for either of them, really….Lupin for inability as his injuries left him teetering on the verge of another world….and Snape….perhaps it didn't bother him for the same reason. After all, had he really lived within the world lately?

Days passed.

First one, then two…and finally five.

Lupin's ravaged body lay partially concealed beneath the shimmer of healing spells at work, as Pomfrey checked his vitals one last time before she rose to leave.

"This is not an adequate arrangement for him," Snape said crossly.

But Pomfrey shook her head in disagreement and gave him the standard answer Snape had heard several times over.

"A faster recovery in the public eye will do him no good if Umbridge wants to kill him while he's down."

When Snape didn't answer, she added, "To be honest, he's doing just as well here as he would at St. Mungo's, perhaps better for all the concentrated care."

After considering her patient with a long, concerned gaze, Pomfrey stood up, stretched her stiff back in exhaustion and dropped a quick pat on Snape's shoulder as she quietly left, murmuring, "Call me if you need anything, Severus." But Snape just hissed in annoyance and immediately went to his own "medicine" cabinet to pour himself a glass of scotch.

He carried the precious fluid back to the bedroom and looked at the wounded man, took a deep drink, then another, eyes narrowing. He could feel the anger welling in the center of his stomach, something even alcohol couldn't touch.

If Remus died, people would accuse him of murder. He knew they would…and he had too much blood on his hands to deal with such issues.

He smirked at his own anger and drained the drink.

Perhaps it was easier to wonder how Remus' death would reflect _on_ him rather than how it would affect him personally….because another voice, an amused whisper, told him that somewhere along the way Remus had become his friend.

His friend…along with all the bells and whistles that accompany such an association.…like worrying for his safety, and hoping for his happiness, and supporting his causes. It was an unusual, if not altogether foreign, experience.

"Bothersome werewolf," he muttered, pulling up a chair.

The sixth day passed slowly.

Remus began to visibly breathe again, managing shallow, audible breaths and labored exhalations like Snape had heard many times before….mostly as enemies had passed away, left to their own physical doom as Severus had looked on curiously.

The breathing sometimes stopped convulsively as Remus struggled to swallow then continued as before, thin and even with a frantic edge.

He woke in rare spurts.

Then fell away once more.

At one point, his breathing became so sparse and labored, Snape summoned Rangune, who ran his wand over Remus, re-issued a dozen spells for pain and healing but shook his head despairingly as he made to leave.

"There's no doubt his condition is worsening. His unusual abilities may have saved him in the midst of blood loss, but his vitals are terribly low. We're doing everything we can for him, Severus. It's up to him now, how strong he is."

"He was in marginal health before this happened."

"Then he'll have to find strength someplace else."

Not at all in the mood for abstract answers, Snape gave the doctor an ugly glare.

When Lupin opened his eyes from time to time, Snape could not see the man he knew but only the shadow of him..and he realized that dark oblivion slowly coaxed Remus to his death.

During nightly healing sessions, Pomfrey talked of mundane things as she changed Lupin's bandages -- the Hogwarts infirmary inventory list, the merepeople's raucous party, Professor Sprout's new bundymum batch… Minutiae possibly comforting to someone struggling with terrible pain on a different plane. And simple things shared spoke of a world that wasn't so bad, a world that went on, that waited for him to return.

On day nine, Remus opened his eyes and cognized enough about the room around him to realize he had survived. But he wondered about little else and soon disappeared again…………

On day eleven, he saw unbearable light……………………..

Then darkness…………………

Shocking light again…..

Blinking…

….Wooden vaulting…all angles, white underneath….He tensed and shuddered to hear air filling his lungs and leaving, like waves pushing against the ocean floor then back again…incessant and painful. Then the shapes disappeared, the doors of his consciousness closing in a hazy blur of gabled wood and sunlight.

* * *

Someone in the room spoke to him. He knew the damaged timbre of the voice and nothing else. Could not fathom the words but found serenity in the sound, in its prickly edges and drawling curves and the quietness of it….

* * *

After a half bottle of gin on the eleventh day, Snape lost patience and dressed Remus in a pair of his own soft black slacks and a button down shirt, put socks on his feet and almost as an afterthought, propped him up in the bed. 

"This is your next step, Lupin. No more sleeping all day," he said pointedly, close to the point of slurred speech but not quite.

When he opened the windows facing seaward to let the breeze waft through, Remus blinked slowly and Snape saw the inward vision connect to something again and find focus. His eyes did a jagged job of tracing a bird that fluttered by before disappearing out of their view. Suddenly, Remus swallowed and shut his eyes with a small exhalation of pain.

"I know you'd rather lie down, but I'm not going to let you."

When he opened them again, tears had formed at the edges, the deep wound on his stomach opening, blood blotting through the cotton fabric and spreading.

Snape opened the bottom of Lupin's shirt, touched his wand to the wound and removed the bloodied bandages then silently put on clean ones, listening to the combined sounds of Lupin's breathing and the ocean below them.

As he finished fastening the last one and scourgified the shirt back to its pristine state, he said emphatically, "Hurts to sit up, doesn't it. And I know you'd like to fall away again, shut your eyes and disappear. But I'm not going to let you, Lupin. You have work to finish….And if it takes pain to keep you here, so be it."

Remus blinked slowly as he struggled to fill his lungs again…..and again…and again. It was too hard.

"I believe we can just call it a case of simple revenge, recompense for all the frivolous moments of torment you and your little friends inflicted on me during our student years."

Lupin visibly flinched.

"Nnn-"

His brows knitted, half the response of what they would have done had he been completely aware of Snape, the breeze, and the pain – the world circulating around him.

"Nev-"

"What?" Snape asked sharply.

"Ne-…never….tormented you," Remus croaked raggedly, swallowing.

And Snape smiled. No doubt, the werewolf would live.

* * *

At the two week mark, the hazy mental gauze that had swathed Lupin's mind so completely fell away and he woke to something clearer, more defined. The clock in the other room chimed, the sonorous sound of metal on metal echoing crisply and evenly. He traced his eyes around the small room. 

Snape sat slumped in a chair within Lupin's vision, shirtless and arms crossed, wearing wrinkled black pajamas bottoms and looking out the window.

Remus watched him silently. He looked different and Remus finally realized he seemed entirely without tension, his face slack and serene. Perhaps he often looked that way in moments of solitude, when he had no one to despise or scare or avoid.

Remus wouldn't know….he had always fallen within one of those categories.

He shifted a leg uncomfortably under the covers and Snape turned to look at him, got up from the chair and limped over to stand by the bed. Hands loose at his side, his eyes traced across Lupin's face as he quickly realized things were different from the other moments of semi-consciousness.

"Lupin?"

"I'm at….your cabin by the sea?" he managed.

And the potionmaster smiled, a genuine, full-fledged grin that didn't last long before he collected himself.

"Yes," Severus said mildly, the smile subdued. "Moody brought you here after the full moon for protection.

"…..The forum."

But Snape just commanded, "Stay awake" and left, returning minutes later with a small cluster of floating cups.

Remus cringed as the first potion, viscous and foul-tasting, hit his parched palette; but before he had a chance to recover from the terrible taste, Snape followed with two more potions then chicken broth and a strong tea of kuzu and valerian, both of which Remus consumed in hungry, ragged gulps.

As he swallowed the last bit of pungent tea and dropped his head, drifting back into sleep, he considered how much Severus must hate this imposition and slurred, "Sorry…" before his eyes closed, the potions hitting his system; and for the first time in weeks, he felt no pain, fell into a comfortable slumber, almost as if he had arrived home and collapsed on the bed, painless and easy.

* * *

He was brooding… 

He'd recovered enough to have a normal conversation and already he seemed despondent. Severus knew that look.

"Are you able to go outside?"

Snape leaned over and wrapped one arm around Lupin's back, the other carefully holding him under an arm for support as he said, "It's time to walk, even for such a miniscule distance as the porch."

Remus managed to stand, grasping weakly at the edge of Snape's shirt as they slowly walked to the back porch and Severus situated him in the large comfortable chair by the door.

There was only one chair. Snape never expected visitors and didn't desire them, anyway. And should the occasional one ever appear, an extra chair only prolonged a regrettable situation.

Remus sat slumped in the seat, looking rather angry and unhappy and Snape gauged him for a moment.

"And what, pray tell, is your problem this morning? Losing your will to live so soon?... How utterly pathetic."

"I've asked about the forum several times, and you won't answer."

Snape shot an irritable look at the sea. He didn't like the worn anger in Lupin's voice, the lingering agony that not knowing caused him. He had thought it best to wait, to avoid tackling the ugly and complicated details at least until Lupin could eat solid food and walk on his own, for Merlin's sake.

When Snape remained quiet, Remus looked away, jaw set.

"Fine.."

And Snape shook his head in frustrated annoyance. "It was my decision. You realize, of course, the other members don't know you're alive."

"That wasn't part of the stipulation, Severus," Remus yelled, turning a bit red around the edges and holding his side. "You said it would move forward, circumstances be damned. You all promised me. I would have thought you, of everyone!-"

Suddenly, Remus dropped his head in pain, his body curling forward; and Severus leaned against the pole to smugly consider him.

"So single-minded, Lupin…."

Remus looked up, wincing into the morning light and Snape's dark form then looked away.

"If you only knew everything that has unfolded…..Have you asked me any questions regarding how you came to be here, inquired as to the nature of your injuries and how you received them or any other number of mysterious things involving your life from the point you transformed three weeks ago to the moment you woke here? You're very much in the dark, aren't you?"

Remus looked desperately tired, and Severus suddenly realized how much the werewolf despaired. Even the fact that he had survived seemed somewhat inconsequential to him.

"I haven't asked, because those things don't matter. As long as Tonks and Harry are safe….All I want to know is why the forum didn't occur," he said slowly and bluntly, straining under the heavy emotional weight of having to ask the question once again.

Severus just gave him a subtle grin and sat down on the porch. Arms crossed, he slowly began to tell Remus everything. The mid-day murder of Neville Bones and Shaughnessy Rookwood, Campbell Sturgeon and the _Imperius_ curse, the silver blade, the morning raid, the bloodbath of LCH's seventh floor...Snape paused for a minute when he saw anger begin to well in Remus, then he continued….how Umbridge released the four guards, Octavius Moody's stint as Lupin in the morgue, and finally, Scrimgeour's public statement two days later that caused near rioting in the streets.

Finally, Snape stopped to let Remus digest the first round of information as he sat stone still, looking out at the ocean. And after a long, dead silence, Severus continued.

"As to why the forum did not take place as scheduled….Daniel Hale is busy creating a public platform for dark creature civil rights, for which the time is unquestionably ripe, considering Scrimgeour's currently inundation of bad press. Brocklehurst and Fletchley have accepted a dozen defense and prosecution cases, including the post-mortem clearing of Campbell Sturgeon's name. Marianthe Brown has formed a werewolf coalition of well over a thousand lycanthropes in France who, although banned from entering Britain, will demonstrate at the border when it does occur. And last but not least, Spinnet's editorials in _The Quibbler_ have been nothing short of brilliant, making Rita Skeeter look like the utter imbecile that she is…..All these things feed the forum, Lupin. No one has quelled it…..it will be born at the proper time …stronger, more developed and more powerful….."

The set of Remus' shoulders relaxed and he began to breathe again.

"And that point, you should be ready to man it…to rise from the dead," Snape added, curling around the words, a dark smile twisting across his features.

Remus shot him a glance and asked with a bit of hesitation. "You said three weeks? I've been here….three weeks?"

Eyes closed with a look of longsuffering, Severus nodded, and Remus had to smile.

"I'll leave soon and start re-planning the forum, contact everyone, help where I can with these other actions."

"No, you'll stay here for now," Snape said immediately with a voice Remus recognized as the final word. And Remus could tell he held something back, something he would share despite his better judgment.

"Because the four guards, who in all likelihood acted under Umbridge's orders, are dead….Aurors discovered their bodies in the Black Forest, their wounds apparently self-inflicted…a suicide pact, of sorts,….but Moody wasn't fooled."

Remus visibly shuddered, a slow and ugly realization creeping up his spine.

"They did her dirty work, then she killed them to protect herself...She's…"

"She's evil," Severus said lowly. "I know what she's capable of, and that's why, for now, you'll stay here. Because she'll stop at nothing, Lupin, and she answers to no one….She had assassins prowling the hospital…Shacklebolt captured one…Aurors subdued another in the morgue approaching Marcus Moody, who was polyjuiced as you. Moody veritaserumed them both. Neither knew who hired them, only that they would have received a generous sum of galleons for hand-delivering your head to a landmark in Scotland."

Remus laughed then groaned and held his side, dark amusement in his face.

"My head…"

"Your head."

Snape rubbed at his upper lip and looked away. "Sturgeon's head was taken…It was gone when the medi-wizard went to autopsy him…as were the heads of ten werewolves from the seventh floor. It happened early on during the day, before the aurors moved from LCH to St. Mungo's."

Lupin swallowed in sudden alarm. Pain still swathed his mind or he would have immediately remembered all the insidious benefits the dark arts gave to someone in possession of an enemy's skull.

"For dark magic," he managed, looking carefully at Snape who refused to meet his eyes.

"Their bodies will return to serve her."

The two of them sat in silence, and the calm ocean faded for Remus,overun by blood pounding in his ears as the fury hit him slowly, then grew.

"No, they won't," he finally said in ragged anger. "I won't let that happen. It's time for her to fall. I need to get out of here." He tried to stand up and crumbled messily out of the chair, clutching at the armrest. Severus immediately went to his side and helped him back into the cabin a bit roughly, angry with himself.

"Do you see why I didn't tell you all of this immediately!"

Rage overloaded Lupin's mind, white lightning pulsing through his system as the world went black and he felt himself falling downward.

He woke an hour later, feeling a cup at his lips when he stirred and he parted them to allow scalding black tea to burn at the back of his throat. He was in bed again, too weak to move, the usual dull pain hitching at his side with every breath.

Snape clanked the mug on the nightstand and said with obvious threat, "We're not talking about any of this again until you're completely healed."

Remus could barely meet Snape's nasty glare.

"Fine," he said, jaw set stubbornly.

But Snape visibly relaxed and reached for a second glass on the nightstand, one half full of scotch. He nursed it occasionally as the two endured several long minutes of silence.

"There's chicken and potato soup cooking….perhaps you're ready for something more solid."

Remus nodded, still not looking at him.

Another long minute passed. Remus could hear the mechanical tick of the clock in the hallway, steady and unremitting.

And he managed to say something he'd wanted to say for days.

"To be honest, you were pulled into all of this against your will….taking part in the forum…taking care of me.…I know you wouldn't have chosen to do so of your own accord.…so….thank you."

Snape's face was unreadable when he finally looked up at an indeterminate place near the ceiling's edge and muttered, "Friendship is never free."

He drained his scotch and perused the empty glass before putting it on the nightstand. Finally, he managed to glance at Remus and found the werewolf's face serious when he admitted with a small smile, "I'm not interested in being expensive."

And Snape surprised him by laughing.

"Yes, I'm very much aware of that, Lupin." He wiped a thin streak of tea from the werewolf's chin then got up to lower the lights. "Sleep until dinner….." But he lingered in the doorway, fingering the doorknob in his hand and after a moment of uncharacteristic hesitation, he said, "Friendship is never overpriced….It costs exactly what it should."

And at that, he quietly shut the door, leaving Remus to ponder a hundred things, not least how a lifelong journey of animosity and hatred could lead to tenuous friendship…

Perhaps hope lingered in a place where such things could happen.

Perhaps a better day began to rise….

**tbc**

_

* * *

_

_Author's Note:_

_Sorry this is so late, guys, but real life has been annoying, bothersome and all-around just plain shitty lately. This chapter turned out a bit fluffier than I had planned, which happens when life stinks. Ah, the medicinal value of fanfiction. (grins)_

_I've seen people with an enormous amount of baggage, guilt, and anger work through things by being allowed the opportunity to care for someone or something, so from the moment this became a multi-chaptered fic, I had this chapter planned. And I figured getting stuck together in a confined space would be good for Snape and Lupin, damaged war veterans that they are, both with their own share of delusions and scars. _

_Kuzu and valerian are both consumable herbs that can be used to make tea. Valerian is often used to treat pain and unrest, and kuzu is used for fever and thirst. It's also consumed in China to treat alcoholism, which is why I chose to have it in Snape's stock._

_Tonks and Remus will be reunited in the next chapter, and we'll learn more about Severus' work with Voldemort in the second war. And how he got those terrible scars…_

_I promise not to be so slow with the next update. _

_Cheers to you all!_

_rane_


	17. Confessions

"_I claim not to have controlled events, but confess plainly that events have controlled me."_

_Abraham Lincoln_

**

* * *

****Chapter 17 – "Confessions"**

Remus sat in the large comfortable chair across from Snape and glared at the potionsmaster, who glared back with folded arms.

"It's your move," Remus said dangerously.

"My clock still has two minutes."

"You're not even looking at the board."

"You think I'm such a simpleton, that I have to view the board to plan my strategy?"

Snape leaned forward on his elbows and quickly moved a rook to take Lupin's last knight.

"Oh, you shouldn't have done that," Remus warned with a smile.

"And if you respond in the manner I foresee, you'll rue your excitement."

Snape smirked confidently as Lupin flicked a finger to reset the chess clock.

Suddenly, the back door burst open and Poppy stood there, wide-eyed and looking a bit harried. Snape curled a hand around his wand, sensing trouble.

"Pomfrey, what's wrong?"

She smoothed at the front of her medic's apron and looked longingly at Remus, who laughed weakly but with much enthusiasm.

"Nymphadora!"

The nurse suddenly rippled and morphed into an overcome Tonks, who ran to Remus and sat on the chair's arm, nearly toppling it as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh my God, I've never been so happy to see someone in my entire life!" she practically screamed.

"The portal connection is only a fraction of the safeguards. You can emulate chemical composition?" Snape snapped angrily.

Tonks nodded but couldn't spare Snape her full attention.

"Then how, pray tell, did you know it was her, Lupin!"

When Tonks kissed the top of his head, he leaned into her with a look of bliss on his face and said softly, "I just knew."

Snape rolled his eyes.

"And who told you he was here?" Snape demanded.

"No one."

"No one," he repeated suspiciously.

"I knew Pomfrey would have access. She's sent me owls every day about her dog, who's very ill and staying at the vets."

Snape leaned back in his chair, giving her a very strange look that spoke of both amusement and disgruntledness.

"So she told you, did she?"

Tonks shook her head.

"Then how did you come to find him here!"

"It's the last place Umbridge would suspect."

At Snape's perturbed look, she added, "Oh, calm down, Severus! The portal you and Moody built was impenetrable, except to an auror metamorphagus who knows all the people involved and finagled the entire set of password spells from one of the two people with access."

"Yes, I'll have to discuss this with Madame Pomfrey."

"She's not sorry," Tonks said with an impish grin then leaned over to look at Remus. He looked terribly thin but somehow healthy…. and…..

Nymphadora's eyes went wide, her heart melting as she ran her thumb over the place where a deep scar once cleft his face, the brutal injury now just a thin white line, barely discernible, the eye bright and clear now, just like the other.

"Nearly four weeks of healing treatments," he said with a small smile, leaning into her hand. "And look." He slowly moved his bad arm upward and gingerly took her hand in his. Tonks watched the fingers close around hers then looked back at him, trying to hold her tears in check as she said softly, "Remus….Poppy didn't tell me."

Snape let his head fall backward for a moment. Tonks had apparently broken official auror stipulations to fulfill….puppy love.

"How's Harry?" Remus asked, concerned and hopeful.

"He's good. Busy with the forum, and he can't wait to see you."

"You'd better have an unbelievably good excuse for breaking through the portal." Snape interjected bluntly.

"I do. I have wolfsbane for Remus."

"Pomfrey was going to bring it."

"She did."

Tonks gave a mischievous smile that just fed Snape's irritation.

"Hardly," he muttered through a tight jaw.

"Remus, thanks to Snape here, Cretagus Grendil came to London and brewed a large batch of the new wolfsbane," she began with a hint of conciliation, trying to give Severus a look of gratitude. He tilted his head slightly.

"Moody held a mandatory check-in today at HQ, and we administered the doses. Every single lycanthrope showed," Tonks said with a hint of pride in her voice, realizing the positive influence it would have on Remus' forum plan. "There's been picketing in the streets and many swore they'd never return to LCH, but Lycanthropes know this is the window for change. Marianthe Brown talked several dozen who had fled to France to return and take part in this as a sign of support. And tomorrow night, LCH will open with the aurors manning it. It's just for this moon…a temporary accord until the investigation is complete, but Scrimgeour signed off on it. No check-in procedure beyond getting crossed off a list. No stripsearch, Remus. No chains, no bloodbath. The cells will be locked since this will represent mass testing of the new formula, but in the morning, everyone can leave of their own recognizance."

Snape looked at Remus carefully as he trembled with the news, overcome.

"It's a start. It's a very good start."

"And this is for you."

Tonks pressed a small flask into his hands, and he glanced up at Snape.

"You said you had everything taken care of for this moon, but I figured that meant shackling me to the porch for the night…..Severus, you've helped everyone. Why didn't you tell me that you talked Grendil into coming?"

Snape hesitated then shifted his seat. "I didn't know he had agreed until just now…Grendil didn't want to come to London this close to a full moon, but perhaps he finally realized how much he could help….Remus, he empathizes more than you might imagine….He's a Lycanthrope….the mass death of the last moon infuriated him."

Remus unscrewed the cap, peered at the opaque, green fluid for a moment then downed it in several slow gulps. With the final swallow, he found Severus looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Hm," Remus said, nodding. "It…" He laughed. "It…uhm…it doesn't taste bad."

Snape smiled in dark amusement.

"Yes, that was Grendil's contribution. Personally, I think it should still take like rat vomit."

Remus laughed again, and Tonks almost fell off the chair arm to hear Snape chuckle. Remus pensively returned the cap to the flask and finally asked, "Nymphadora, what of the LCH crew, the regular employees."

"The guards can't return until Scrimgeour finishes the official inquiry. Umbridge wasn't affected in the least, of course. _The Prophet_ still adamantly defends her, says the Ministry shouldn't cave in to political bleeding hearts blah blah blah," she said, shaking her head. "But I've saved the best for last. The Ministry announced a take-it-or-leave-it second date for the forum…the 28th, just five days after the full moon, but it's set in stone."

"Six days away…Merlin," he murmured, rubbing at his head.

"You planned it all over a month ago, Remus. All you have to do is show and speak."

Tonks pulled a small square of papers from her pocket and remorphed them to full size.

"Here are all your things, plus a pile of clippings from _The Quibbler_ and _The Prophet_, just so you know what the public has been exposed to, media-wise. And there's a copy of Moody's notes on the LCH case and the guards' murders, everything that has occurred with the investigations."

Remus nodded, looking at the pile intently.

"I have work to do."

But Snape immediately leaned forward on his knees.

"Lupin, if you start going through that, you'll be up all night; and you have a full moon tomorrow. Why don't you save it for the morning?"

Remus bit at his cheek, grudgingly agreeing and the room went silent until Tonks asked quietly, "Severus…would you mind if I stayed here tonight?"

Snape smirked and leaned back in the couch, crossing his legs.

"I don't think Lupin's recovery is prepared to accommodate any….rigorous activity, Nymphadora,"

"To sleep, Severus, just for sleep," she deadpanned then gave him a cheeky little grin. "The pink-haired slut can control herself."

And Severus gave a tired smile and blinked once, slowly.

"Quite…"

The minute the door clicked shut, Tonks turned and quickly folded into his arms, pressing into him as hard as she dared; and he took her in, eyes closed and chin resting on top of her brown locks.

"I can't believe you're here. You're real," he whispered.

He could feel her tears through the thin shirt he wore, and her voice wavered.

"I swore I wouldn't cry in front of that git when I saw you."

"Don't call him that," he lightly chastised.

She puffed warm, muffled laughter into his chest before pulling back to look at him, his face melancholy, his eyes running over her features as if to memorize them. When he led her to the bed and sat down, dropping to the mattress in exhaustion, Tonks hunkered in front of him and rubbed gently at his knees.

"He's taken good care of you."

Remus nodded with a puzzled smile. "He has…..Oddly enough, I think being locked up together has been good for both of us."

The light amusement in his eyes fell away, though, when Tonks' hands went to his shirt buttons.

"Never mind Umbridge or werewolf inferi, I figured I'd get here and find greasy spots on the rug where you two killed each other."

Tonks unbuttoned his shirt while he sat quietly drinking her in, his eyes uncertain. As the third button came open, she could already see the taut jutting bones of his wasted body. Remus had gone into LCH thin, even with a month of decent food and rest at Harry's; but after a second month of hanging on the bare edge of survival, he was practically emaciated.

She slowly pulled the shirt off his shoulders and ran careful hands over the many massive and waxen scars, new skin growing. Soon the wounds would heal entirely, leaving only old Lycanthropy scars behind.

When he murmured, "Poppy is an excellent healer," Tonks just answered gently, "She is," and brushed a kiss against his lips as she carefully undid the drawstring on the cotton pajama pants he wore. He lifted up slightly on his palms as she pulled them off slowly and found he wore nothing underneath, the loose fabric brushing lightly down his thighs and calves as she slid them off. Remus hesitated before saying, "Tonks, I'm not..I don't think I can…."

And she moved up to kiss his face reassuringly, whispered in his ear, "It's okay….I've brought you something." Tonks leaned back on her heels and pulled a tiny bundle from her pocket that, with a tap of her wand, morphed into a terribly ragged set of navy blue flannel pajamas.

"Oh," he said brokenly. "My flannels."

"Yes, Remus, the ones I tried to throw out fifteen times at Grimmauld, and you kept stopping me."

"I love these pajamas."

Tonks smiled broadly as she helped him into the threadbare clothes, amused by how pleased he was to wear them.

"Nice to see them?"

He nodded, running his eyes over her with heartfelt yearning. "But much nicer to see you,"

After helping him dress, she took off her clothes and shrugged into his oxford, Remus watching intently, almost pained with the wait of touching her. She extinguished the lights but left the thick wilting candle to burn on the nightstand, the flame dancing in the slight breeze that crept into the room as denied wind whistled heavily against the window. Flickering light played along the walls as she cuddled into him, avoiding his worst injuries even though they had almost healed.

She threaded her body into his, found that perfect cranny in the crook of his neck and slipped her hand around his middle to rub at his back, a touch that made him gasp, the electricity of her hand there passing through him like fire. Lupin's body practically hummed and he slid down her slightly, kissing her neck and feeling lightheaded.

Tonks smiled silently for a moment, closing her eyes to feel his lips moving along her jaw slowly, the heat from his body increasing.

"Remus…."

"Mmm…I won't break," he murmured, breath hot and lovely on her neck, his tongue touching against her collarbone before he trailed down and nuzzled the baggy shirt aside to fervently kiss the top of her breast.

She could feel him hard against her thigh and reached down to touch him then stopped, swallowing away an immediate fear. She had almost felt relief when Remus said he felt too weak to make love…because maybe if they didn't, he wouldn't think about it….But now he would… She knew he would…and this reunion would soon become something else entirely.

His hand reached lower under the shirt to gently caress her there, found she wanted him just as badly, and Tonks felt him smile against her skin as he slid the hand up to touch her stomach and murmur the contraceptive spell. And then the slow, aching movements stopped as he pulled back and looked into her eyes, his face a mere breath from hers.

"'Dora….You-……"

But he didn't have to ask. He could see it in the closed line of her almost imperceptible smile, the resigned and nearly hidden fear in her eyes as she watched him carefully.

"Oh God…."

He clenched his eyes shut and rolled away from her to look at the ceiling, arms folded awkwardly around his face as he lay there, stunned and unmoving.

In the heavy silence, Tonks finally sat up and pulled his arm away so she could see his face, but he didn't move his eyes to hers.

"We've already talked about this, right before you checked in to LCH, do you remember?

"Of course, I fucking remember! Five bloody times, I should have known-"

"I'm not talking about that, you great prat!"

I know," he answered immediately with a tired voice, not wanting to fight. He threw the other arm over his eyes.

Wind whistled against the window, all else silent. The flicker of the candle faded lower as the wax overwhelmed it, choking out the flame.

"Remus, talk to me," she whispered, her voice desperate but he could hear the strength below it. "Please don't run from me…..tell me what you're feeling."

Remus dropped his arm and looked her with wary eyes. His blank face became taut, his brows tightening.

"Tonks….." He swallowed hard. "……..Everything….I feel…..I feel everything."

She watched his newly healed hand quake as he struggled to tightly close the fingers around hers, and he pulled himself up to lean against the headboard, looking down at their hands, his thumb slowly rubbing on her palm.

"I'm joyful, Remus! You have no idea." Tonks wiped briefly at her eyes then looked at him with a hardened look. "I'm not afraid to have this baby, but….I've been afraid that…." She sighed and shook her head with a small laugh. "I've been afraid…I mean just….bloody terrified… of how you'd react…I know we talked about it once, but…talking about the possibility of it and dealing with the reality….I don't want you to run from me….from this…because you think that by separating yourself…you would somehow save me….save this baby….that our lives would be easier without you…..that's _bullshit_!"

She was trembling, a heavy, angry tear falling down her cheek.

"I've fought too hard for you…I've given you everything I have, Remus, everything in my soul to bring you back to me….you….I'm….I'm strong…I am, but the thought of losing you makes me feel so fucking weak, and if you run from me again, so help me God-"

Remus could feel the first slap of their relationship coming and leaned forward to kiss her hard.

"Please don't cry," he murmured between the kisses, laying Tonks back on the bed, holding her. When their tears had somewhat abated, he leaned on an elbow, fingers threading through her hair. She watched him, waiting for him to speak, to fucking share what he felt. Remus could still see the anger and fear in her eyes and knew both emotions stemmed from love; that his past behavior had caused her love to take forms that hurt her. It had to stop.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, taking her hand and putting it to his cheek, pressing it there a long while before he kissed her face where tears had fallen, trying to erase the hurt.

"I'm so sorry….I'm sorry I'm such an idiot, sometimes…"

"Most of the time," she murmured, and Remus smiled.

"Tell me what you're feeling?" she asked hopefully.

And he lay back down, his face close to hers, both of them still. His eyes traced on hers as he fleshed out the words and softly began.

"I feel like….when I'm with you I'm home….as if my entire life before was just a journey to find a place in your arms and I never knew it…but all those years….there were so many things I never thought I'd have…things I _shouldn't_ have… and when I fell in love with you, could look into your face and see those things, it scared me…and it wasn't you…I had to let go of so much to accept that you could love me…God, Nymphadora, I've been so terrible to you in so many ways….so….slow to come around, and you've never given up on me….I would never leave you…could never abandon our child… I'd die without you."

Eyes closed, Tonks felt all the tension fall away, and she looked at him gently, her face serene.

"Kiss me, you prat."

And he obliged.

In the middle of the night, Tonks woke and realized that Remus dreamed, heard her name whispered, his hand trailing over her sluggishly, tracing thoughts from his sleeping mind. And she took him, heard him sigh and the room's faint light caught the glimmer of his eyes as he breathed out, "You're real," and pressed into her. They writhed in slow gentle movements, both half asleep, each gently caressed by the other until spilling over then falling once again into somnolent arms. Complete.

* * *

"Leaving so soon?"

Tonks turned to find Snape sitting in near darkness and looking at her from his reclined position on the couch, the file she brought open and spread out on his lap.

She didn't want to wake Remus and grudgingly walked over to quietly say, "I told Moody I'd be at LCH by 7:00 am. We have a lot to do today."

"And Moody knows you're here, I'm sure…."

Even in the darkness, Snape could see her blush.

"I'll tell him."

Without breaking their eye contact, Severus shuffled through the papers in his lap and raised a _Quibbler_ clipping for her to see.

"I assume you didn't discuss this with Lupin last night, or he wouldn't be sleeping so soundly."

When Tonks just shifted on her feet, Snape added hoarsely, with a slight sneer, "You're leaving before he reads the file."

"I'm handling it. And Remus has other things to worry about…..They arrested Kingsley because of me, and I'm going to get his charges dropped as soon as the forum is over, no matter what it takes."

Snape's face softened a bit.

"I read all the articles pertaining to the matter, including the shoddy ones from _The_ _Prophet_. I'm not sure why you would blame yourself for his incarceration."

Tonks crossed her arms and blinked at the first hint of light peeking through the window blinds.

"I'm the one who set off the gate at Ministry security. It wasn't Kingsley's DNA. He took potion to mask it when we had to enter the buildings….it was my body that set it off."

Snape's brows knitted.

"You've contracted Lycanthropy, as well…."

"No, Severus," Tonks said, shaking her head in irritation. And she could tell by his sudden, greasy expression that he immediately understood.

"I see….and have you narrowed your search for the father?"

"Don't," she warned, battling his smirk with angry eyes.

After a long silence, Tonks surprised herself by telling him things only Moody and Shacklebolt knew. Why did she feel compelled to explain anything to this bastard?

"I had just talked to Kingsley about it that morning….that I might be…but I didn't know…I didn't know until I set off the gate, and…Kingsley's eyes went wide and he just blurted out that it was him, grabbed me before the guards came over and said, 'Don't you say a fucking word. Don't you dare.'…..It all happened so fast…."

Tonks dropped her head, and Snape answered quietly, "It was an admirable move. And what good would be served by having you both incarcerated?"

"He didn't set off the scanner, Snape, I did."

Snape considered that.

"I'm sure Umbridge already knew about Shacklebolt's Lycanthropy. She holds her cards and plays them at opportune moments, so it was only a matter of time for him….I imagine Kingsley knew that, as well, in his line of work."

The dead silence lasted several minutes.

"And he is still in Azkaban?"

Tonks adamantly shook her head against the reality of those four days in Kingsley's life. "We got him out, managed to finagle him house arrest status. Umbridge's people can't get near him there, even though the charges fall under her jurisdiction. Of course, she's appealing to Scrimgeour….but Kingsley told us not to fight it…to focus on the forum…he has faith that after the forum, the new laws will kill the charges against him."

Tonks dropped her head again.

"But if the forum fails, I won't let Kingsley suffer alone. I'll get him out, and if I can't, I'll come forward and prove that I'm responsible."

"Two lives lost instead of one. How very noble of you," Severus said lightly.

"He won't take the fall alone, Snape. I won't let that happen."

"You sound as if you've committed a crime."

Heavy tears immediately fell from Nymphadora's eyes.

"Never," she whispered, fighting to smile.

Snape leaned back into the couch and considered Tonks. Where was the loud, obnoxious girl he had avoided in the Grimmauld hallways, the pink-haired underling in ripped jeans who morphed her face at inappropriate times just to be contrary. She was gone, replaced by this young woman who had seen so much, who seemed able to express her true inner self as strongly as she expressed her true outer one, no longer searching for barriers and distinctions. Perhaps she and Lupin really did complete each other.

Snape dropped his eyes then fixed her with the slightest of smiles.

"You two deserve one another….and in case you don't know me well enough to read that comment correctly…it is a compliment."

After a tense moment, Tonks relaxed her shoulders and took a deep breath, fixed the sagging rolled cuff on her shirt…Lupin's shirt, the one he had worn yesterday, that she had slept in last night. Dressing this morning, she couldn't bear to leave it, the warmth of him still clinging to the cotton and smelling of him.

"I have to go, Severus….thank you for taking such good care of him."

Snape shrugged and looked away.

"He's only been off those paltry nutrition spells and back on solid food for a week, but he's eating well. He continues to strengthen."

Tonks looked at him hard, something unfortunate on the tip of her tongue.

"I'm indebted to you."

"Mmm," Snape drawled with a narrow-eyed smile. "That sounded painful."

Tonks let out a low laugh as she turned to go.

"It was."

"Do you want something to eat before you go?"

And Tonks turned slightly to looked at him.

"Thanks, but I'm late as it is."

He nodded.

"I've reset the portal, so you don't have to morph to leave."

And she gave him a hesitant smile then turned and walked straight into the dustbin, pushing it into the nearby table then stumbling forward with it and catching herself against the wall with a jolt.

"Bugger that!" she blurted.

Snape shut his eyes and shook his head as she left. This unusual couple….and Kingsley playing the martyr… He understood more about them all than they realized. He wasn't so lost in the dark that he couldn't remember how it felt to sacrifice for people you cared about…to fight for someone….or something…you truly believed in.

Snape put the file back on the coffee table, scrunched back into the couch and threw the covers over his head to hide from the impending light.

* * *

Remus woke a second time to find bright sun flooding the bed. He took a short shower and fumbled slowly with shirt and pants buttons, using his right hand for therapy and wincing as the awkward fingers struggled to clasp each one. And with the simple cane Snape had provided him, he gingerly walked to the porch and found Severus, head bowed into a heavy, leather bound book and a glass of liquor in his hand. Remus limped passed him and eased into a second chair he had recently spelled outside.

"You slept late today."

"I had some things to think about this morning…guess I fell back asleep…."

"Mmhm."

"…..Nymphadora's gone," he added mournfully.

"Yes, I am aware. She tripped over the dustbin on her way out, waking every forest animal from here to Hogsmeade." Snape looked up from his book, irritated.

"And you say that as if she died. For Merlin's sake, she's just gone back to London."

"I know," he said sullenly. Snape stared at Remus carefully for a long moment before returning to his book.

"You two have had sex in my bed. I'll have to burn the mattress."

"And what makes you think we had sex in your bed?"

"Please, Lupin, don't patronize me," Snape drawled, still reading.

Remus finally shrugged and allowed himself a mischievous grin, but Snape's fingers moved nervously at the edge of his book when he finally said, in an odd, low voice, "No matter…If I were reunited with the woman I loved after near death….I don't care how sick or injured I was….I'd ravish her within an inch of my life."

Lupin smiled to receive such a strange admission, but Snape just turned an onion thin page, the delicate paper crinkling. He shifted in the chair to feel the Lupin's eyes lingering on him, on the visible scars of his neck; and somehow he knew the question was coming when Remus quietly said, "Will you tell me what happened to your throat?"

"No," Snape immediately deadpanned and refilled his glass from the firewhiskey bottle on the small table between them, eyes gauging the fall of fluid along the crystal walls with a potionmaster's eye for measuring. But when Snape took a deep drink, holding the glass tightly in white fingers, Remus picked up the bottle and leaned over to pour the contents between the porch boards.

"Lupin…"

It wasn't the first bottle Remus had poured out over the past week, and Severus had begun to tire of the game. The werewolf never said anything, didn't embarrass or annoy him by trying to discuss the matter. He just removed the means, several ounces at a time, until Snape realized he had precious little alcohol left in the cabin.

Remus released the large, empty bottle and it floated inside. They listened as the dustbin lid creaked open, glass clashed loudly, and the lid clanked down.

"You were always so bloody nosy, Lupin," Snape rasped in an ugly voice, suddenly desperate to go inside and get away from Remus, who looked at him with world weary eyes, his voice gentle when he finally said, "I'm sorry….It's none of my business….I just always assumed that it had something to do with her…the Deatheater you helped escape…This morning, I've had a lot on my mind…about love….and what people are willing to risk when they find it….Nymphadora's pregnant, Severus."

When Snape cut his eyes at Remus, he saw fear and, shockingly, shame…shame for putting her through such a thing with the world as it was, and his features softened.

"You love her, do you not?"

"Merlin, yes…. " Remus managed, his eyes welling.

"……Well, then…..it will be alright."

Severus got up stiffly and fumbled in the kitchen for several minutes, came back with two glasses of a very old, very fine red wine and handed Lupin the fuller of the two.

"To your child, Remus….may he…or she…be born into a brave new world."

Remus nodded and tapped his glass to Snape's, the thin reverb trailing as he brought the glass to his lips and drained it.

They sat on the porch for a good thirty minutes, watching grey shadows play across the ocean waves. Severus didn't know what else to say, really. And he knew Remus expected nothing more than what he had just offered -- small tokens of encouragement. But when Remus finally made to go inside, the words fell out of Snape's mouth, slowly and carefully.

"She was…twenty-seven….when the war started…..twenty-eight when he first raped her…. thus ending a year of blind hero worship and unerring servitude.."

Remus sat back down, trying to look at Severus supportively.

"The rapes, of course, changed everything….for however misdirected her motives were for supporting him…few can overlook their own abuse at the hands of leaders …Misguided paths…they're more easily recognized when followers suffer needlessly at the hands of one they call 'savior'…And, of course, with Lord Voldemort, nothing was ever simply rape or death or torture…Things were always….much uglier than their base definitions…. And when he finally broke her, when she failed to titillate him….when she didn't scream in agony or beg for reprieve or try to escape….he lost the frantic, gutted mouse beneath his paws…. She had become….resigned to it all…the pain, her impending death…and it infuriated him to lose that amusement….I knew he would kill her and move on to someone new, and I feared for her….and for Draco, whom I knew would fall next in line."

Snape glanced at Remus, hard memories swimming in his eyes.

"He was just a boy, Lupin….and Anna….she was so young, her life ahead of her. And my usefulness was about worn out, on both ends. Dumbledore gone by my hand and Voldemort somewhat suspicious. But the Dark Lord was not such a complicated mind that I couldn't provide myself as an outlet to draw attention away from the others without him realizing such a thing occurred….So one morning, I helped her escape. And I arranged for Draco to leave and join his mother in safer lands…but he refused."

"You did what you could," Remus said quietly, and Snape threw him a quick stunned glance then looked away again.

"Draco never realized that money doesn't equate power or personal worth.…just the illusion of it. He had neither the wits nor the means to survive true war and the terror that comes with it…I knew that…..Nevertheless, he entered the fray with his father's blessings….I had promised to protect him….and I failed miserably."

"And you became Voldemort's next source of entertainment," Lupin said lowly, angered by the thought.

Snape's lips moved, but nothing came out. Finally, he managed to whisper, "For a time….yes."

He looked sadly at the empty glass in his hands. God, he needed a another drink….

"Anna and I were lovers before the rapes started…after she escaped, I….said her name…I said her name once as he….hurt me….The Dark Lord took inhuman forms during sex...demons……animals…..Sometimes…thinking of her…it was the only way I could bear it…. hearing her name coming from me…like that…he tore out my throat."

Lupin's eyes went wide.

"Severus…."

What did one say to that…..

Remus shook his head against the reality of it, wiped at his mouth.

_Merlin… _

Finally, he put out a palm, and a full bottle of scotch flew from a hidden place in the bedroom and into his hand.

Snape turned unsteadily and looked at the bottle.

"I've been searching for that one."

Remus looked at him a long moment before he filled the two glasses, and Snape took one gratefully.

"……To…..surviving hell….and more importantly, to a brighter tomorrow that we'll _both_ see."

After they drank, Remus leaned over and squeezed the potionmaster's shoulder, trying to somehow relay that he understood, that he had also known great pain and horrible indecency. Despite a slight, abrupt cringe, Snape didn't pull away.

"You will see it, Severus…I'm not escaping the ashes alone. I'm taking you with me."

**tbc**

_

* * *

_

_Author's Note: Such a funky chapter...lots of dialogue! I tried to tie some of the psychological aspects of these characters into propensities, conversations, and hints from past chapters. I've also made allusions to quite a few things from other chapters. Hope everyone remembered the Russian Deatheater from chapter 6! _

_Everyone took a stride forward here, but Severus wins for the biggest step. I don't imagine that he's ever opened up to anyone else the way he just did to Remus. And he's definitely revealed a weak side that he doesn't like people to see. A true friendship has formed, I think, for we don't hide our fears from the people we can truly trust with them. _

_Next chapter takes place the night of the full moon. Be prepared for creepy things and large, foul toads (evil cackle). _

_Hope this installment finds everyone well and best of wishes to all!_

_Cheers,_

_rane_


	18. Dissonance

"_Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish."_

_Charles Palahniuk_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 18 – "Dissonance"**

Tonks shuffled clipboards as another werewolf slowly approached the LCH check-in window and looked at her timidly, standing several feet away.

"Good evening."

"….Evening."

"Your name?" Tonks asked gently.

"108257."

Tonks tried to smile, but something heavy pulled at her heart. He wasn't the first werewolf this evening who couldn't believe she wanted his name, not his number.

"No, sir, I don't need your registry designation, just your name."

He started to remove his jacket.

"Kelly….It's Fletcher Kelly."

Tonks nodded, traced the list with her quill and marked his arrival.

"Okay, Mr. Kelly, you're checked in. Just find an unoccupied cell on any floor and close it behind you." As he reached the third shut button on his shirt, she realized what he was doing and put her hand out, shaking her head softly.

"No! No, you don't have to leave your belongings here. Just remove your clothes in the cell and put them back on when you wake. And there's no check-out; you can leave on your own accord in the morning…..And we'll have medics walking the hallways, so please ask for help if you need it."

Like others who had survived the seventh floor massacre last month, his exposed flesh had an array of thick, angry scars; and below the skin, Tonks could see lingering mental trauma evident in his eyes.

He tried on an unsure smile for Tonks and nodded; but while walking down the newly lit and warmed hallway, he stopped and turned back to her.

"Hey….Remus Lupin should have lived to see this place today, ya know? Do you know about him?"

Tonks grinned inwardly but outwardly gave him a small, polite nod.

"Yes, I do. He would have appreciated it. Will you attend the forum on Wednesday?"

Fletcher laughed.

"Lady, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

Remus sat naked and hunkered in a corner of the bedroom, a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Sitting on the edge of the bed with arms crossed, Snape stared at him, face inscrutable.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine, it's just….close. Won't be long." He stole a quick glance at Severus. "Would it help your research in any way to watch me transform? Because if it would… you're welcome to stay."

Snape rubbed at his neck, eyes looking anywhere but Remus.

"I'd rather not….but I would like to check on you briefly before I leave."

Remus nodded.

"Thank you….Tell Harry-"

Suddenly, he huddled into himself, gasping; and Severus walked to the door, shutting it softly behind him as Remus ground out the first scream.

He gathered his things, shook out his cloak and donned it as slams and guttural shrieks continued in the other room. And when they abated, he walked slowly to the door, hand on the knob a full minute before he turned it to find a hulking werewolf sitting on the floor, panting, eyes wide.

"No wounds re-opened?" he asked quietly.

The werewolf whined in sad reassurance, hunched over and trembling, then nuzzled and scratched at the blanket to make a nest, laying down with a haggard exhale and Snape slowly shut the door again.

Just as Snape took Dumbledore's cane in hand, Harry Potter finally stumbled through the doorway portal, breath ragged after running from Hogsmeade to the Hogwarts infirmary.

"Well…Potter makes his grand entrance."

Harry held his stomach, struggling for breath.

"The moon's…..barely visible….He transformed already?"

Severus nodded drolly, and Harry dropped his shoulders in disappointment, rubbing sweat from his cheek.

"I was still helping out at LCH. I….I really wanted to see him tonight."

"Yes, well, he wanted to see you, as well. Too bad you couldn't get here when you said you would."

Ears red, Harry started to shoot something back, but Snape cut him off.

"I'm going to Hogwarts to run an errand, and I'm walking. I will reconfigure the portal behind me and return in no more than two hour's time."

Harry's brows knitted. "Walking? To Hogwarts?...You could take the portal and arrive in the infirmary."

"No," Snape drawled, moving to stand in front of him. "I've been confined to quarters for a month, and I would like to stretch my legs a bit, particularly my bad one."

"….I don't see why you have to go at night, though. Right now."

"It's none of your concern, but, needless to say, my timing has a reason."

Instead of nodding, Harry shook his head, exasperated, breath finally returning to normal as he tried to escape Snape's glare by walking around him. He looked about the cabin, slightly shocked by the sparse rustic décor and lack of clutter.

"Is there anything I should do while you're gone?"

"Do?"

"Check the portals every hour or something like that?"

Severus almost smiled.

"In four weeks, I've seen no sign of foul play …and this late in the whole sordid affair, I doubt anything will occur…..Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?"

Harry hesitated before adding, "The forest can be dangerous at night, and …you know there are rumors about Umbridge….that she has inferi…."

"Umbridge has no reason to chase me, Potter, and she seems oblivious, for all intents and purposes, to Lupin's survival…..Tomorrow, I may even remove the portal, especially since Lupin will return with you to London in three day's time. But with the moon full, I thought someone should stay with him while I run my errand. You can act like an adult for two hours, can you not?"

Harry's jaw worked. The request for him to come here…it had almost hinted of compassion…a chance to see his godfather. But now that he stood a meter away from the bastard, he remembered that Snape knew nothing of kindness.

"You may sleep on the couch, if you so desire….Lupin is in the bedroom. He's still weak, but it should be his choice whether he's seen in wolf form. Do not disturb him."

Or maybe Snape had a small kind streak after all…

"No, of course not," Harry said quietly. "I'll see him in the morning."

"There's treacle tart in the refrigerator."

"Okay."

"Don't touch it."

"Fine," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes.

Severus recited a long chain of spells at the door before the swirling mist faded, replaced by the ocean view outside as he walked out, the sound of his cane tip tapping on the porch wood fading as he reached the soft grass and walked into a brightly lit night.

* * *

He relaxed to walk the floors of his dungeons again and immediately went to work, selecting jarred ingredients carefully from the shelves to make _salubris_, a delicate restorative best prepared under a full moon. Lupin would need it in the morning and several days following if he were to remain upright with his planned schedule.

Snape chopped and ground herbs, stirring clockwise once, counterclockwise twice, adding a gram of burdock then removing eighteen grams of fluid to mix with an eyedropper's worth of unicorn blood, rejoining the smaller mixture with the larger after it flashed. Nine more steps followed, just as tedious and each equally important. Finally, the mixture morphed from a murky green to brilliant orange.

Snape smiled.

The comfort of potions….their exactitude….always giving back precisely what they received, no more, no less.

He immediately carried the cauldron to Slytherin tower where moonlight could hit the boiling concoction, igniting its medicinal properties; then returned to the dungeons, carefully pouring the vivid orange fluid into tiny brown bottles and corking the tops. Snape pocketed eight and put the remainder in a box for Pomfrey, leaving them in the infirmary as he considered whether to take the portal home or walk back. Admittedly, he felt tired, but the wonderful night air….Twenty-nine days holed up in the cabin had, quite frankly, given him a nasty case of cabin fever.

He walked through the stillness, cane sinking into the soft ground, feet crunching on the thick blanketing of leaves, stiff with frozen dew. As his eyes adjusted, the trees lit up in greys, mist reflecting in the heavy air.

An owl hooted, and something small and lightning fast scampered away from him, scattering leaves. The small bottles in his robes clanked softly.

But suddenly…A loud rustling…crunching…Several larger….things…moving slowly.

Snape stopped, breath steaming from his mouth. He drew his wand when out of the shadows, a man appeared, dressed in grey work slacks and a dirty white button-down shirt, his young face blank and decaying, his hair missing in tufts.

"Professor Snape," the body said dully.

And Severus felt himself go lightheaded, the world slightly turning.

"…..Mr. Sturgeon, is it?"

"Yes, sir. You remember me. How lovely. My mistress would like a word with you, if you'd follow me to the portkey."

Slowly, from behind Campbell, an inferi werewolf came, looking oddly tame and drugged. And Severus knew the dark creature came as incentive. If Snape refused, Umbridge would unleash it; and he had no doubt she watched from afar, waiting to see how he'd react.

"Lead the way," he said lightly.

Snape's head spun as they took the portkey and arrived at a large, three-story home on the outskirts of London. He imagined she'd live in such a place, a white brick mansion with brass accents, polished to shining, the yard immaculate and covered to bursting in pink and purple flowers, conjured to bloom year-round. So cheery and lavish. Even on the best of days, it would have driven Snape to illness.

He silently followed Campbell's drone-like footsteps to the front door, his mind darting. Why was he so nervous? How many times had he found himself in similar situations throughout the second war….

_Never again, you swore, after reading Pettigrew for her…never again playing the spy, playing sides and here you are….She has no reason not to trust you. No reason. She knows nothing. Bloody hell, whatever she wants, just find out, do it, and leave. Do whatever she wants, placate her, then leave. _

Once inside, Snape winced at the bright light and sickening pastels, every inch of the place covered in pointless opulence and knick-knacks.

"Severus, darling!"

His eyes dropped shut at the sight of a lavender work robe-clad Dolores Umbridge in fuzzy house slippers, her hair bundled up in a loose knot.

"Dolores….may I ask the meaning of this?"

"And wonderful to see _you_, too! I've been looking for you for several days," she said lightly, eyes bulging as she walked closer, slippers shuffling on the white shag carpeting. He could hear the electricity building.

"I had practically given up when, lo and behold, I was doing a little light reading before bed and what did my eyes discover?"

She held up the tattered marauders' map.

"Little Severus rummaging about his dungeons!" she sang. "Where have you been, may I ask?"

That damned map. He didn't even want to begin speculation on how it came in her possession. And why did it matter, at this point….

"Where. Hmmmm?"

"Home. Simply preoccupied. I didn't need distractions."

"Aaahaaaahhh….spells blocking your cabin? I see. You've always been a strange one. Well, no matter. I need a potion, Severus, and I believe you still owe me several favors in return for services rendered during the war?"

When she ran the map down his robe front, drawing an invisible line to his stomach, he snatched the map from her hand, trembling for a moment and not liking the spark of lust in her eyes when he took it away.

"Why have you summoned me here?" he said quietly, dropping the map on the overstuffed couch at his side.

"I need _malumoculus_ potion…to locate any being, living or dead," she said, her voice light and sweet, as if she'd just ordered strawberry ice cream.

Severus shifted on his feet and sighed, trying to look bored.

"Dolores, you had me summoned here for something you could have easily ordered at Knockturn?"

"I'm a public figure, Severus. And my reasons for needing the potion are not public business….You will make it for me….Now."

Her voice went from saccharin to dangerous.

When he nodded, she immediately took his hand and led him to a small, inconspicuous door near her fireplace that opened to a narrow and tidy maple stairwell, painted mauve.

"I'm afraid my basement is quite stark! No time in my busy schedule to decorate it along with the rest of it the house. But it is a more utilitarian area."

He followed her downward four floors, the purple walls making his stomach curdle, the fringed bow balanced on her fat head bobbing with each step. Too soon, they arrived in an enormous, high ceiling room, dimly lit and as big as the home's floor plan, lined with cages on one side and shelves on the other….shelves chock full of various and unsavory items.

Severus furtively noticed several jarred human body parts immersed in potion, heads with open eyes barely visible through the murky fluids, feet in another, and what appeared to be a large animal's penis with a chunk missing. And the cages…in passing, eight inferi werewolves peered at him through the tarnished metal, quiet as mice, their eyes dead, their bodies breathing in and out mechanically.

She led him slowly to the room's marble island where a large cauldron sat, pasted around the edges with thick, black goop, the jars around it nearly empty. Dolores or someone else had attempted to make the potion and failed.

"I'm so glad you're here! So glad! Let me get the lights," she sang, swishing her wand.

He stood a long moment staring at the cauldron, an unusual urge to flee welling in him.

"…..May I ask for whom you search?"

"First, we deal with the potion. Specifics later, I should think."

He sighed and began studying the jars then held up one without looking at her.

"Devil's Foot…You need freshly cut stalks, not this desiccated material. He shook another jar then took the top off and sniffed. And your ground vulture eye has turned. I need the proper ingredients before I can proceed."

"BOY!" she screamed.

A gaunt child of thirteen or so soon clamored down the stairs and ran to her, standing frozen in her shadow, one hand tightly gripped in the other; and Severus studied him when Dolores turned to give him a scrap of paper, could see the _Imperius_ at work in his eyes.

"To Diagon immediately for these ingredients. Knock on the back door to rouse Dromgoole. Take the black boar portkey, and you have _ten_ minutes!"

As the child fled, Dolores didn't miss the curiosity in Snape's face.

"He's staying with me for the moment…keeping an eye on his father." She looked sentimentally at one of the cages where a werewolf glared vacuously through the mesh, part of his brain showing through a blunt injury to his head. "He's an orphan now….I told him I was working to bring these werewolves back to life. To right a wrong I had done. Truly, he's a smart boy in many ways….not too bright in others."

She smiled broadly at Snape, pointy teeth catching light from the orange ceiling flame, as Severus clasped hands behind his back, one latching onto the other for dear life.

"I knew you had the wolves here…..a lovely collection."

"And how did you know that, hmm?"

He shot her a sexy smirk.

"Oh, Dolores, I have my ways, darling."

And she chuckled with him, touching at his robefront.

"Now where are my manners!"

Humming, she spelled over two ornate chairs and a small table, followed by a large, silver tea set that landed daintily on the table's center. Her voice went sincere as she prepared tea for two.

"Now….Down to specifics, as you requested, Severus. I think we can discuss this, since you're a few scant minutes away from fulfilling my needs. You want to know for whom I search?"

Severus shrugged as he sat, crossing his legs and arms slowly.

"Truly, it matters not. You may share, if you like."

She poured the tea with much formality, and seemed to consider her words carefully before she spoke.

"I believe the body of Remus Lupin does not currently reside in France under his recently purchased tombstone. Lovely as the stone is, I must say. I love white marble, don't you?" she said, handing him a steaming cup of Darjeeling.

Snape could feel a bead of sweat drip down the small of his back.

"Thank you….And why would you care one way or another? He's no longer a concern."

Dolores fingered the pitcher's silver handle, studying him with bulging eyes.

Severus just stirred his tea, not breaking her stare as a spoonful of sugar dissolved in a grainy swirl.

"Severus, would you like to see something? Something I know you'll appreciate?"

"Of course."

Her smile broadened as one fat hand flicked and drew back a large curtain beyond the farthest wall where thousands of small clay jars were neatly arranged.

"I need him…..to finish off my collection. You see……Mr. Lupin had….special lineage. I'm sure you knew him well enough over the years to recognize that he wasn't just your run-of-the-mill dark creature. My soldiers will need centurions…leaders… and…call me sentimental, but those who were particularly bothersome to me in life...well…they're so much more enjoyable to control in the afterlife."

"I see…" Severus said, eyeing the jars as she wand-whisked the curtain back to its place. An old terror grew within him, old wounds reopening in his mind. "You're soul harvesting, then."

"Yes," she whispered, sipping her tea.

"I see…..Then I will make the potion for you, as requested. And perhaps, in return, you will remember me when your day of glory comes."

She broke out of her revelry with a fond laugh and patted his hand, taking a dainty sip and eyeing him over the silver cup's edge.

* * *

Harry woke from a third try at fitful sleep and immediately looked at the clock then peered about the cabin. Four and a half hours since Snape left. He paced for a bit then went through the portal, arriving at the infirmary and walking the empty halls, checking Snape's old quarters, his classrooms, the dungeons…the entire Slytherin tower from top to bottom. He ran to the owlery and found Hedwig sharing a mouse meal with Sprout's owl Rose. Hedwig flew over as Harry finished his quick note.

"Return here if you have a message, Hedwig. Find Professor Snape," he said, sending the owl off into the moonlit night.

* * *

Severus made the potion carefully, measuring each ingredient twice for accuracy as the clock ticked away.

All too soon, the midnight chime sounded.….For Merlin's sake, _why_ did he say he'd return in two hours? Knowing Potter…and Lupin, for that matter, they'd grow anxious after the third hour and downright panicked after the forth. And he knew Gryffindor tendencies better than most….

This blasted potion…He couldn't concentrate…And he had to make it correctly…

….Two grams vulture eye, mixed with fresh cream of tartar and the blood of one white salamander…...

_Just don't leave the cabin…_

Dolores suddenly appeared at his elbow and brightened as the black mixture began to swirl in success.

"I require the vestiges, at this juncture," Snape said, clinically.

She hummed as she rummaged and returned with a bag of small bag of scrapings – dried blood and hair, apparently gathered long after the owner had lost them.

"From the shrieking shack!" she chirped. "A bit old, but they still have his signature."

Snape's breath went shallow as he added the remnants and the potion flashed then continued to swirl in darkness, unable to find what Umbridge sought.

She watched carefully, fingers gripping at the counter's edge.

"Hm….I can tell you've made it correctly….as if you couldn't."

Snape dipped his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment. The two remained silent for several minutes, studying the spinning blackness. Snape finally cleared his throat.

"The potion will remain active for sixteen hours."

Umbridge didn't look away from the cauldron.

"Hm." she finally muttered, disgruntled. "Yes….Well, I imagine you'll want to return home tonight? You're welcome to stay, of course."

"Thank you, but I should return home."

"Not interested in staying….for a few hours…or an hour?"

When she turned, her chubby hand touched lightly at the crotch of his pants, he swallowed and took a step backward, not removing his black eyes from hers.

"Perhaps some other time."

* * *

Harry took the portal twice more, checking for Hedwig to no avail. He paced the floor, wand tight in his hand. Something was wrong. Something had happened. He looked at the clock again then glanced at the bedroom door and was surprised to see the knob clicking to the side, hit with a large paw. Then slowly, awkwardly, the door edged open, Remus nudging it with his muzzle. A huge, spindly werewolf crept out, looking at Harry timidly, head partially bowed. Potter swallowed and let out a nervous chuckle.

"Remus…" he managed, walking closer, hand outstretched and landing hesitantly on the werewolf's head. His palm barely grazed over fur for a moment then pressed in, rubbing.

Finally, he laughed, eyes going wet; and Remus let out a lighthearted whine, something in his wolfish face hinting of embarrassment, as his yellow eyes went to the clock. Harry nodded.

"I know……Something's not right, Remus. It's not like Snape to break a schedule."

The werewolf immediately walked to the portal and nudged at the knob then looked at Harry, who came over and opened the door, revealing the swirling portal.

"I'll go to the infirmary and head for the forest from there, retrace his steps."

But Remus suddenly jumped through the portal, and Harry's eyes went wide as he rushed to follow him.

* * *

Scrambling from Umbridge's home to the shoe portkey, Snape ran a shaking hand through his graying black hair as he rummaged the ditch for the broken high heel. Suddenly, Hedwig descended upon him, flapping frantically at his shoulder.

"Bloody hell!"

He pushed away the swatting wings and grabbed the message.

_Where are you? I've checked Hogwarts already. Send word._

_Harry_

Snape turned the message over and wrote with this wand:

_I was indisposed. I am returning immediately. _

_S.S._

"Perhaps you'll reach him first," he muttered, tying the message to the owl's foot.

Several harried seconds later, the world twisted and spun as he arrived, once again, in the dark forest between Hogwarts and his cabin. He walked in strange panic, breath coming in snatches when it suddenly caught in his throat. Through the dense forest, he suddenly saw emerging…a werewolf and a black-haired young man. His blood froze.

"YOU IDIOTS!"

"Snape!" Harry yelled, running to him, but Severus immediately drew his wand at Harry and yelled, "Turn around NOW! Back to the cabin immediately!"

But he knew it was too late. She would have seen Lupin in the cauldron, probably a few scant minutes after he had left; and he stopped trying to run, grabbing at Harry's shoulder, his head falling backward in frustration.

"Potter, we don't have time to make it back. Umbridge is coming."

"WHAT!"

"I'm quite positive she knows Lupin's in the forest."

"WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING TONIGHT!"

"Potter, you're going to have to trust me."

Harry grabbed Snape's cloak, digging his wand into the man's neck; but Lupin growled and pulled him backward by a shirt tail until he fell. Before he could recover, Snape trained his wand on Harry and yelled, "_Incarcerous_!" binding his arms and legs. Then, turning to Remus:

"_Vulnificus calumnior_!"

Immediately, Lupin's scraggly body became glamored with deep, oozing cuts and gaping wounds.

"_Praepidio_!"

A muzzle suddenly appeared on his face and odd metal shackles, passing through the bone of his legs and conjured just as Dolores emerged through the misty trees, riding on the shoulders of a decaying werewolf, five more at her side. Suddenly, Harry understood and fell to his knees, crying out angrily under Snape's wrenching grasp.

"You've been watching me, haven't you? You little bastard, I should have known better than to leave!" Severus muttered in measured tones, hushed but audible.

Umbridge descended from the inferi werewolf's bowed head and walked toward the three with drawn wand, her face frantic and furious.

"SEVERUS! YOU WILL EXPLAIN THIS NOW!"

"You can't have him yet, Dolores! There's too much I haven't done to him. Too much I deserve."

Snape turned back to Harry, snarling, "You'll pay for trying to help him escape! How long have you laid in wait, watching my cabin? You reached him through the portal I have to Hogwarts, I imagine! Bloody fool...And _you_…"

Remus let his shoulders sag and legs shake as he lay, crumbled and miserable on the cold ground. When Snape jerked the chain, he whined on cue.

"You'll be severely punished, animal! But perhaps I'll wait 'til you're human again…when you're skin is thinner!" he growled, his psyche screaming to hear repeated possessive words Voldemort had whispered to him not so long ago.

Snape put a gentle hand to the werewolf's head then drew it back, slapping him hard, and Remus winced from the stinging blow. Dolores drank in the entire scene like a fine wine.

"Oh, Severus, you could have told me. I mean, really," she purred.

"I won't have you taking him yet, Dolores. For now, he belongs to me…."

"……Interesting," she said, tapping a finger to her lips. "And you've had him since last moon?"

"Yeeess," he drawled. "And nursed him to health, so I could tear him apart, piece by piece."

When Umbridge drew nearer, Remus crawled backward ever-so-slightly.

"Don't move away from me!" she shrieked, taking the chain from Snape and yanking Lupin forward. She reached out a shaking hand, eyes hypnotic with the desire to possess as she touched the bristles on Lupin's back.

"You have_ lied_ to me," she ground out, and Snape lowered his head, looking at her carefully over his brows, gauging the exact mixture of danger and submission people like Umbridge enjoyed seeing.

"And even more egregious, Alastor Moody has lied to me. And to the world."

"Moody thinks he's dead, Minister. Of course, my replica only lasted a few days but it was complex enough to exist until the funeral."

She glared at him, and he could see the blood pounding beneath her eyes.

"A shadow spell?"

He nodded blithely.

"The fool wasn't smart enough to catch it….not like you, my dear. Yes, I should have told you. Forgive me for being…terribly possessive. You always get what you want. I suppose I was only trying to delay the inevitable."

She eyed him pragmatically, hands clasped in front of her as he watched an array of emotions flash in her eyes before she finally settled on one.

"I should be furious, but I see he's in good hands. Sub par to mine, of course, but satisfactory nonetheless!" she added, her voice suddenly giddy. "Perhaps in return for my silence, you'll invite me over soon? I'm sure Mr. Lupin is quite entertaining, and you….." She ran a pink-glittered fingernail down his arm, pointed teeth showing when she smiled. "The Dark Lord always said sexual torture was your strongpoint…In the very least, I'm up for…. watching."

Severus felt bile rising in his throat and below him, hunkered into the ground, Harry felt the same. But to Snape's credit, he managed to give her a suggestive look.

"Perhaps you can assist with the finalities, then….in a week, perhaps?"

"And, I'm assuming, I may have the body in exchange for my….forgetfulness?"

Severus sighed heavily and studied the trees.

"Of course….as long as you honor my earlier request."

"Oh, you lovely thing, I will always have a place of honor for you in my halls!"

Umbridge returned the chain to Snape's hand and brushed at her enormous, tenting robes then glared at Harry, who shrunk in on himself.

"And what of the Potter boy?"

"I'm a legilimens, Dolores. I can handle him adequately. He'll simply forget he ever tracked Lupin down…appear in Hogsmeade tomorrow with a terrible hangover and a bottle of alcohol stewing in his innards."

She let out a snort and snapped her fingers to call one werewolf forward, his head lowered to accommodate her.

"I must say……surprisingly, I'm not angry with you, love…..I _should_ be…very much so! But I've tossed and turned all month wondering about this one and now that I know, a large load has been lifted from the already monumental weight on my shoulders. But Severus darling….whatever you're up to tonight….save the best for last, hmm? I wouldn't want to miss the grand finale!" she tittered.

Unfortunately, she didn't leave at once. From her balcony view on the werewolf's shoulders, Dolores asked many other questions and made several pointed demands. Severus barely managed to block the spontaneous torture of Remus with promises of sweeter things to come, but he couldn't stop her unexpected curse on Harry, his forearms opening in thin lines, the blood draining out. When Remus growled, his sharp teeth showing through the muzzle, Snape struck him hard with Dumbledore's cane and for a moment, Harry felt the whole thing falling apart as Dolores flicked her wrist and hit Remus with the _Cruciatus_, smiling as he spasmed and howled. And then it was over, Dolores descending from her "throne" and making her goodbyes, Harry turning away when she touched Snape "there," her hand lingering, stroking; then none too soon, the five hulking werewolves and their master finally disappeared into the night.

* * *

They arrived at the cabin and stumbled in, exhausted and running on adrenaline as Severus spell checked them for tracking and monitoring spells and found none.

When the werewolf crept into the bedroom, transformation eminent, Snape reset the portal safeguards then immediately turned to yell at Harry.

"You dim-witted brat! I should have known better than to leave him with you, Potter, you can't even make lip balm potion without cheat notes!" He strangled on the last words, his damaged voice raw from the chilled night air.

"You were five hours late coming back! Did you expect us to just sit around, with things as messed up as they are right now?"

Snape pocketed his wand, eyes focused on nothing, as he rubbed his aching throat.

"Things are far more complicated now….She'll eventually come for him, you know."

"Well……you practically invited her over here for a twisted shag and a murder," Harry spat, sitting down and removing his dirt-splattered glasses to wipe them on his shirt. The slits on his arms had closed but the blood remained; and Snape could tell he felt weak.

He watched him, brows knitted for a moment before going to the kitchen and returning with a warm, wet rag, handing it to Potter wordlessly. "It's not about murder per se…..she's soul harvesting."

Snape sat down, as well, and the two shared a heavy silence. In the other room, Remus knocked over a chair, quietly fighting the pain of his body returning to human form. And the two of them sat utterly still, discomfort blanketing the air.

Harry wiped at his arms then finally dropped his shoulders and grudgingly looked at Snape before his eyes clamped shut. He took a deep, frustrated breath.

"It's my fault…..I told him I was going to look for you, and he jumped through the portal. I should have tried to stop him," he managed, but Snape just shook his head, too exhausted to fight.

"He's not a pet that got away from you, Potter," Severus drawled, his tone almost conciliatory. "He's obstinate….even in wolf form, I'm sure…..And to be fair….I incorrectly read her mindset…If I had been more perceptive, I would have never walked….Being detained here, with only the papers to go by….Umbridge has seemed fairly detached, letting Scrimgeour take the brunt of all the investigations, acting as if she could care less about the temporary changes at LCH.…But she's just been lying low...She has something planned, something possibly dependent on the outcome of the forum, I believe…something quite horrible."

Just then, the bedroom door opened and Remus limped out, wearing nothing but the jeans Tonks had brought him a few days earlier, cane shaking under his leaning weight. He looked as if he could fall over any minute and Harry rushed to him, wrapping his arms about him, supporting him as much as embracing him.

"Harry," he managed, letting his head drop to the top of Potter's head for a moment. "Are you alright?"

Harry nodded into his chest.

They walked slowly to the couch and Remus sat by Snape, slumped on elbows then looked over his shoulder at him a long moment.

"You….were very very late," he croaked.

"You should not have left. You knew better."

A dead silence fell on the room. Finally, Lupin said, "I was worried….You've looked after me for a month. Did you really think I wasn't prepared to return the favor? Five hours late….did you think we'd just stay put, that we wouldn't come looking for you, with everything that's going on?"

Harry's eyebrows went up to see Snape go red around the edges.

"What…." Remus laughed gently, shaking his head. "What the hell happened tonight?"

Severus leaned into the couch with a longsuffering sigh.

"To put it succinctly, Umbridge had me escorted to her home to make _malumoculus_ potion for the explicit purpose of locating you, and when you **left** the cabin, Lupin…. you appeared in her cauldron.…."

Lupin studied the coffee table, brow furrowed.

"But I've made some important discoveries…. She has an enormous number of souls in her basement.…And the werewolf cadaver heads missing from the morgue, along with their summoned bodies…She also has the remains of Campbell Sturgeon as well as a living child….the son of one of the werewolves…. She's holding him under the _Imperius_, and I can't imagine she'll let him live much longer…."

Snape's voice went a shade darker.

"As far as the souls…..I don't imagine she's keeping them for fancy or morbidity…. There's something more…."

Remus rubbed at his chin, sweaty fingers trembling.

"That's right up her alley, soul collecting. She's probably been grifting them, a few here a few there. She has high clearance….access to Azkaban and the former dementor guards….full Ministry compound access."

_The Department of Mysteries…_

Remus shut his eyes, unable to say it aloud. What if she had Sirius? He couldn't even begin to handle that possibility right now.

Instead, he said, "Is Moody at LCH this morning?"

When Harry didn't answer, Remus looked up to find his godson's eyes wide, having just had the same terrifying thought.

"Harry…"

Potter's eyes shot to his.

"Can you find Moody this morning and tell him everything?……He'll have to appeal to Scrimgeour in order to touch her…..especially if her actions are somehow legal under wartime amendments."

Harry shook his head.

"It's all dark arts stuff. It can't be legal."

"Black magic runs London City Holding, Harry. Whatever she's up to, she probably has a legal loophole….She always does….Moody is good with Scrimgeour, but he'll need solid evidence to justify searching her house or bringing her in for questioning."

"Then he should _veritaserum_ me," Snape said flatly and Remus swallowed.

"She'll know the information came from you."

"Lupin, she'll know anyway," Snape said tiredly.

"……..We should talk to Moody first….see if there's any way to avoid that." He threw a quick glance at Snape then trained his eyes on Harry, worried.

"I'm sorry….I've pulled you both into this."

"Remus….." Harry smiled carefully, his eyes heavy with all the things he'd seen in his short life; Remus knew the final battle had just begun, and he'd already made mistakes….letting Harry follow him into the darkness just a few hours ago… He could ask, but he already knew the young man wouldn't flee to the safety of shadows. He was, after all, his parents' son…James and Lily had never backed down from a fight, either….And that's what scared Lupin most.

"Remus, I was on the seventh floor that morning at LCH…..I saw the things she's responsible for first hand, and if torturing the living, if holding an entire class of people under her foot isn't foul enough, she's keeping souls and bodies?" Harry shook his head dangerously. "Whatever we need to do, let's do it."

Remus rubbed at the knot on his head. This was his fight, not theirs.

"Harry, if Moody can't arrest Umbridge, I will deal with her personally. Helping with the minutiae of forum is one thing, and this is another. If Moody can't touch her, I'll handle her alone. I mean it."

"You're tired, Lupin," Snape said and Remus smiled wearily, feeling at peace with regrettable destiny.

"No more sleep. As soon as her potion diminishes, I'm going back to London."

Snape considered that for a long moment then finally said, "I have polyjuice from last month's hospital batch. You should drink some, at least. After all, the world still thinks you're dead and buried in France."

Remus nodded.

"And may I also note that you're not the only person allowed to believe in something….The forum members have experienced death threats and attacks this past month, and they haven't wavered in the least. They're quite resolute.…..Potter, it seems, has no plans to rescind his position, and I'm sure Nymphadora Tonks is equally adamant….The auror force will do what they must….and, personally, I have nothing to lose here and many debts to pay before I can move forward. Beyond that, I have no intention of abandoning a friend to a dangerous situation."

Harry barely hid his amusement -- Snape glaring at the coffee table, Remus looking at Snape with a furrowed brow. My God…they'd bonded.

Suddenly, Snape smiled and curled around an ironic thought.

"We all acted quite foolishly tonight; and in the end….our impetuous behavior may have served us well."

Remus tilted his head, considering that with a small smile. "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread,"

And when Harry got up, pocketing his wand, Snape stood, as well, knowing he'd have to escort a worse for-wear looking Harry back to Hogsmeade in case Umbridge was watching…and he knew she would be.

Remus stood with some difficulty, cane shaking.

"I'll see you tonight. Polyjuiced, but I'll be there."

The silence between the three of them was heavy with understood things, existing as they were on the brink of another war. And Harry looked at Remus hard, unable to leave without hugging him goodbye.

"Part of me still can't believe you survived….if you could only remember….what it was like," he said, tightening his embrace; and Lupin's mind wandered.

In the storybooks, right triumphed, the wars ended, and everyone lived on in bliss, their world perfect and aligned and once again bright and green and free from all harm.

But Remus could only see a trail of tears….six-year-old Harry standing alone on the school grounds, unloved and neglected…Harry at thirteen, collapsed on a train, the memories pulled from him so wretched his mind had closed in upon itself…Harry screaming as they watched Sirius fall into the void, pulled from their lives forever….and Severus….an ignored child….a taunted student who once found purpose at the foot of evil…a young man who recognized his sins too late and had paid in flesh over and over again…now a broken soldier drinking himself to death, alone and isolated in this small cabin.….And his own life no better than theirs…..

The way he saw it, they didn't ask for much. Just something decent to call their own…and enough hope to make things bright and green again.

"I won't let this fail," he promised as Harry pulled away.

But Harry only smiled then shot a quick glance at Severus before correcting him, his voice gentle.

"_We_ won't let this fail."

**tbc **

_

* * *

_

_Author's Note: A slow slow update! Life has pulled me in a dozen different directions lately. Plus the rtchallenge on livejournal was very shiny, then my "Blood" muse went on walkabout for a bit and wouldn't come home. This is a strange chapter, the black sheep of the piece, really, with an odd and darkly comic undertone. I hope it worked out. _

"_Incarcerous" is a canon spell and "polyjuice" a canon potion. All other spells and potions in this installment are the product of my goofy imagination and a jimdandy Latin dictionary. The "fools rush in" quote belongs to Alexander Pope._

_Hope you all remembered Fletcher Kelly from Chapter 14! He'll make another appearance before things are wrapped up, because I really like him, for some reason. _

_The final scene references the Harry installment of "Random Acts," where Remus takes a substitute teaching job at Harry's school to watch over him. _

_Tonks will return next time, as will Kingsley Shacklebolt and..."that woman." Does anyone want to throw Umbridge in a cauldron of boiling tar yet? _

_There are three more chapters and an epilogue to go! Look for some interesting surprises in the last chapter, including the emergence of a character who's been mentioned from time to time but hasn't had any scenes yet. And we might have to cope with a death….Just thought I should warn you guys! _

_Until next time, thank you for reading, for your feedback and patience. Cheers to you all! I remain yours,_

_rane_


	19. Emergence

"_Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;  
__Or close the wall up with our English dead."_

_"Henry V" (Act 3 Scene 1), William Shakespeare_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 19 – "Emergence" **

Samuel Spinnet was spell-sweeping his stand at the end of a long day when a young man arrived, average height and average face, his piercing black eyes trained on the shop-keeper in unusual anticipation. Samuel offered him a small, cautious smile, wiping hands on his pants.

"I'm closed and there isn't much produce left, but you're welcome to browse….I do have some vegetables out back, still in crates….Need anything in particular?"

When the man just shook his head and shoved hands into his pockets, Samuel felt an uneasy knot twist his stomach.

"……I take it you didn't come to buy something for dinner."

"No…..."

The man studied him in near amusement, and in a pregnant moment of silence, Samuel shifted his weight, gauging the visitor.

"Well….If you're here to set fire to my stand or attack me for being a 'creature lover,' go ahead and try. Won't change anything to me."

Face suddenly hard, Spinnet drew his wand and saw immediate alarm in the young man's face as he raised a hand, placating.

"Samuel……it's Remus Lupin."

The stand keeper immediately blanched, his mouth slightly agape before it closed in a tight, angry line.

"You bastard."

"Samuel-"

"Get out of here! Right now! How dare you…."

He grabbed the man's robefront and pushed him into a tent pole just as he felt a warm, careful palm on his side, black eyes fixed on his.

"Samuel, it is me. I'm polyjuiced," Lupin managed, wincing as the steel pole pressed into his spine. After studying the stranger, Spinnet took a step backward and wiped at his mouth. Remus finally gave him an encouraging smile.

"Ask me anything."

He knew Samuel's tests would be well-chosen.

"Dark marks don't polyjuice. One time, Remus Lupin told me where Fenrir Greyback bit him as a child….. Show me. Now."

Remus nodded, eyes never leaving Samuel's as he fumbled with robe and shirt buttons and slid the clothes slightly down one shoulder to reveal an angry fang-marked gash, the skin around it pristine and anemically pale.

But Samuel immediately said, "Remus didn't have use of that arm…the one you just used to unbutton your shirt."

"A month's worth of healing sessions saved my life…and they helped with older injuries, too."

Samuel slid to a stack of crates behind him, starting to believe….but not fully. He had to be certain.

"……Lupin came in here one day….right after a transformation….He was weak and hurt. It was the first day we met….."

The black-haired young man smiled.

"I didn't have enough money for anything, but you were kind to me….I never forgot that, Samuel, and I never will."

Samuel's lips twitched on the verge of a smile, his heart beating faster.

"I'm glad you took the apple I offered you."

"I didn't."

"No, you didn't. Bloody hell!"

Lupin laughed, relief flooding over him as Samuel jumped up and pulled him into a hug, laughing in disbelief then pulling back to look him over as if he were seeing the visitor for the first time. He shook his head, still stunned.

"….How?" he managed.

"Alastor Moody took me from St. Mungo's, assumed Umbridge wouldn't tolerate my survival."

"And she wouldn't have. Who else knows?"

"Nymphadora Tonks and Moody, his nephew Octavius, who's also an auror….Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Have you heard what happened to him? Shacklebolt?"

Remus nodded.

"Harry and Severus Snape….and now you."

Samuel laughed again, his eyes bright.

"Will you meet with us before Wednesday?"

"Tomorrow evening, if you can all come to the forest."

"You've got a deal, mate. This week, it all goes down."

Samuel looked slightly shocked when Remus grasped his shoulder affectionately.

"Everything you've had to go through …This hasn't been your fight, Samuel, and yet here you are...Thank you."

When his eyes went to a healing welt near Samuel's eye, the shop-keeper just smiled and shrugged.

"I've never been one to drop my beliefs just because things get rough. None of the forum members are the type, or they would have dropped the cause weeks ago. Bloody or clean, we're in this 'til the end, Remus. All of us."

Then he added with a huge grin, "Hey, I got involved because of my uncle….the life he lost ….And when you died, my fury welled even greater. But now…"

Samuel turned pensive.

"Now that I know you're alive, it's not about loss anymore, it's about freedom for those who have so much to gain. I can fight on behalf of hope instead of trying to quell my anger through justice. And that's a wonderful feeling, Remus. I have faith that soon _all_ people will have freedom again…And my uncle's memory can rest in peace."

_

* * *

_

Two Ministry guards spell-frisked Remus then escorted him into Kingsley's living room where the auror sat, idle arms resting on his knees and body still. But Remus could tell his mind moved a mile a minute.

He turned sharply and looked at Lupin with a bit of suspicion, as one of the guards muttered, "You can sit right here," then moved back to his corner niche, re-engrossing himself in a glossy copy of _Quidditch Quarterly_.

Remus carefully sat, gauging the pulsing blue partitions that covered the windows and the monitoring orb nestled in the ceiling's corner, its grey pupil fixed on them, hawk-like. A quill and roll of parchment floated over to record the conversation verbatim, the quill quivering like a small dog anticipating treats; and when Remus spoke, the quill began scratching and fluttering in a frenzy.

"It's good to see you, Mr. Shacklebolt."

"….Do I know you?" Kingsley asked, more than a little wary.

"I'm Mr. Sumer….I just came by to see how you and your family are doing in the midst of all this."

"Yeah, well, my wife and kid are gone….staying with her brother in Wales."

"Not permanently, I hope."

"Who knows," he said, his face blank. "…….I still don't know you from Adam."

"We have a mutual friend…..your partner in the auror force, Ms. Tonks. We met at the auror's ball two years ago, surely you remember. I was wearing a simply smashing ensemble for which you had nothing but the highest praise."

Kingsley stared at the black-haired stranger in front of him…..Smashing ensemble?….He wasn't one to notice clothes….The auror's ball….Remus Lupin had arrived wearing the shittiest rag of a robe….

"_What the fuck, Lupin! I wouldn't wear that to take out the garbage let alone escort a beautiful woman."_

"_Unless you haven't figured it out, Kingsley, I'm a rung below impoverished."_

"_Mate, I heard she bought you a new robe."_

"…_She did."_

"_And what, you wouldn't wear it…Too fucking proud, is that it?...D'you give it back?"_

"…_.It's at Grimmauld." _

_Kingsley scanned the thick crowd that mingled in the bright, decorated hall; and his eyes finally found Tonks wearing a gorgeous strapless dress, all pinks and white, sparkling._

"_Have you talked to her yet?"_

_Remus shook his head and sampled the punch._

"_I had to run some errands for Dumbledore….just got here."_

_Kingsley found a new cigarette and put it to his lips, smiling intently as he put a hand on Lupin's back and steered him towards the exit._

"_Come on, we'll go get that robe." _

"_Kingsley, for Merlin's sake!"_

"_Don't fight me on this or I'll make a big, fat scene. And I know how you hate big, fat scenes."_

_As they finally reached the cool night air, he looked sidelong at his friend, realizing that Remus wouldn't fight the trip but resented it all the same. _

"_Why do you have to make life so bloody difficult for yourself?" Kingsley asked quietly as they walked to an apparition point. _

"_The reality of my life is damned different from yours…and hers. I'm not going to paint myself differently than who I am, and I'm not going to deceive her with illusions…But I don't expect you to understand that."_

"_Naw, Lupin, you're the one who doesn't understand. Tonks loves you, no matter what. And one day, you'll get that through your thick skull." _

Kingsley ran the night over in his mind.

How Tonks had glowed when Remus officially arrived, all polished up like a new sickle, looking horribly uncomfortable but handsome all the same.

Slowly, a mischievous grin spread across Kingsley's face, his eyes dancing.

"Sumer…..Mr. Sumer, huh. Yeah, I remember you now…..How you been?"

"A bit under the weather this past month but doing much better. And since I was in town to take care of some business and only recently learned of your predicament, I thought I might drop in and see if there's anything I can do for you."

"You can tell Tonks to stop feeling guilty. She didn't do anything wrong." He threw a quick glance at the busy quill. "After all, she didn't know I had Lycanthropy."

"I haven't spoken to her about you, but I imagine she's very upset."

"Moody says she can't bear to see me or some shite…..for whatever reason. You tell her that all she's doing is upsetting me by not stopping by…. I seem to recall you had a project in the works. How's that going?"

"I think it's going well."

Kingsley nodded.

"You know, if they didn't have me holed up here…..I'd….I remember now….I think we talked…at the ball about…that I could help out with your research."

"You've contributed more than you'll ever realize…"

Remus cleared his throat, threw the quill a quick look of consternation.

"Our judicial system is sound and just and, after all, you were stricken in the line of duty. An act of patriotism…"

Kingsley gave a small, dark smile.

"Soon, you'll be free, Mr. Shacklebolt. I'm sure of it. In the meantime, if you need anything at all, please contact me, if possible. I'll be in town for the next few days and will stay in touch."

Remus rose and handed Kingsley a small, folded piece of paper with a muggle phone number, but the scrap burst into flames when it touched the darker man's fingers. Kingsley shook his head as tiny flakes of black paper fluttered to the coffee table.

"Can't give me anything," he said plainly, not even trying to whisper. After all, the quill picked up most things and the orb in the corner everything else. "Can't put items down in the house, either, magical or otherwise."

Remus nodded as he studied Kingsley for a minute then shut his eyes, breathing evenly. Kingsley's brows knitted then he jumped like he'd been burned, heart pounding to hear Lupin's voice inside his head.

_020 75654704….It's a muggle pay phone close to Samuel Spinnet's produce stand, and he'll answer it if it rings. Call if you need anything at all. As part of the forum, we're requesting that your charges be dropped. But if the forum fails, one way or another, we'll get you out of this, I promise you that. Kingsley, my friend, thank you so much for protecting Tonks. I owe you everything. _

Kingsley blinked and swallowed….Venificus primo…. Merlin, no wonder Remus hid his powers. For a few seconds, he sat stunned then finally found his voice, trying to force it flat.

"Well, thanks for stopping by, Mr. Sumer. And just so you know, I don't regret anything. It feels good to stop hiding, you know? To quit running. I've finally realized that that I am what I am, and I don't owe anyone an apology for that."

Remus tried to smile, shaking Kingsley's hand as the guard came to his side, calling time.

"I wish we all felt that way, Mr. Shacklebolt. Perhaps the world would be a different place if we did."

* * *

A few blocks from Harry's flat, Remus spotted Mad-Eye Moody stomp-hobbling down the busy pavements when he suddenly stopped and turned, looking directly at Remus as he approached. 

"Hello, Mr. Sumer," Moody growled lowly with a grizzled grin.

Remus laughed.

"Recognized me right away? You're a scary man, Mad-Eye."

The two continued down the busy streets, people knocking at their shoulders in passing.

"Are you going to Harry's?

Moody grunted an affirmative.

"Figure'd you'd already be there…..My news stinks so bad you can smell it a mile away, but I brought you something."

Moody pulled a large, tattered paper bag from his enormous coat and handed it to Remus, who opened it with a sense of trepidation.

"Your things from LCH."

The protective knot he'd made around the trousers pocket was gone, and his heart sank as he rummaged the bag for Nymphadora's ring.

Moody's magic eye swiveled over to watch him.

"Something missing?"

"A ring," he muttered in disappointment, folding the bag with a bit of anger and tucking it under his arm as they continued to walk.

Moody's jaw worked, recalling the melted pile of gold and cracked lavender he'd seen on LCH's floor. "Did it have a purple stone?"

Remus didn't dare to hope but quickly answered, "Yes."

"We might have what's left of it in evidence then…..Sorry, Lupin, but the guards destroyed it."

Remus nodded silently as they walked, inwardly seething. Those men were dead and, in a strange way, he did mourn that. To him, they were simply misguided, doomed to die without ever seeing past their own hatred. But he couldn't forgive them for this final insult.

Ian……He could imagine how it unfolded. They murdered him first…then went through his things….And Ian destroyed the ring….

_It's your own damned fault for taking it in there…still…_

An exhausted Harry opened the door, mouth twitching in slight amusement to see Lupin's polyjuiced form, but he just said, "Come in," and brought a few cold butterbeers to the small living room as they sat down, Harry and Remus looking at Moody intently, waiting for the news.

A muscle twitched in Moody's cheek, and he kneaded at his cane handle before speaking.

"Alright…….Everything you got on Umbridge last night was for shit with Scrimgeour. He had an official excuse for most of it, and I did the legwork, looked into things myself. That woman blows her nose on company time, she fills out a form."

"Moody…" Harry let out an incredulous laugh. "She's soul harvesting. She's holding a boy captive. How can any of that be bloody legal?"

Mad-Eye drained his butterbeer, and the belch that followed reverberated through the room.

"It gets better in a bad way. The buried werewolf bodies? Scrimgeour still classifies them as active evidence in an investigatory case, so she has legal access….doesn't give her grounds to create inferi, but he didn't want to hear about the possibility of that. She's filed reports on the heads taken from the morgue under section 93, some mess that says time-sensitive actions can occur without proper paperwork as long as she submits the forms within thirty days and can prove she had clear cause to circumvent normal channels. Never mind she didn't tell us, and we've been investigating their removal as a crime."

Moody gripped his thumb and popped it soundly.

"And she's got legal access to those souls, every one of 'em. They're from Azkaban and The Department of Mysteries, waiting for ceremonial annihilation. Scrimgeour has her listed as Curator of Essences."

Furious, Harry had to get up, if only to take the empty butterbeer bottles into the kitchen, but Remus just sat silently, not shocked by the news. Moody's clawfoot heel knocked at the floor, one knuckle pressed to his temple in thought and his neck going red with resurfacing anger. When Harry returned, he continued.

"Definitely not least, the boy. As stupid as it sounds, she's his legal guardian. Russell is his name. Lost his mother last year. After his father's murder on the seventh floor, all he had left was an old aunt from Liverpool. Somehow, Umbridge got custody of him…. But I don't care who the fuck she is, she can't use _Imperius_ on a child. Scrimgeour said he'd file an investigation on that but through The Magical Children's Welfare Office, _not_ the auror force, despite the fact that it's a dark arts crime and falls under our jurisdiction….Their records are closed. Ours are public, see. Sweet and tidy….I'm sure she'll have that boy's mind swept clean, even if caseworkers do show up, which they probably won't. Scrimgeour plays the same games, does paperwork on things that don't happen and creates paperwork for things that shouldn't."

Moody glared at Remus and rummaged for a cigarette.

"So that's it. Scrimgeour shat on the whole thing to cover it up, and after an hour in his overstuffed office I'm feeling raped up the ass…..I told him he could go ahead and keep storing the whole matter in a tight, dark place, but that won't make it a diamond when it finally comes out…..And it will come out…I'm finished dealing with him, boys. When Lady Umby goes down, he can go down with her, and I won't even send a sympathy card."

"I don't understand why he's protecting her," Harry muttered angrily.

Remus shrugged.

"Right now, Scrimgeour watches her back like his own, and he's on the defense.…It's possible that he created half the forms and regulations that give her free reign just to protect her…Scrimgeour's savvy. Not only does he move the pieces carefully, but he'll change the board to protect himself."

After a minute of dead silence, he added quietly, "Murder, theft, and kidnapping all in the name of public service and the common good…..And the _Prophet_ paints her as a saint among mere humans."

Moody watched him carefully. He didn't like the look in Lupin's eyes, a look that said the task of ousting Umbridge had passed to him.

"You're not running off and trying to rub her out tomorrow, Lupin. Give it time. Patience and vigilance, man. Going off half-cocked and giving her the means to destroy the forum won't solve anything…The forum is more important….._Right?_…You've worked long and hard, almost lost your life over this."

Remus wouldn't look at him.

"So we go about it this way. If she tries something during the forum or after…if she so much as farts in someone's airspace between now and tomorrow night, the aurors will arrest her. If she wants a fight, then she can have it. But for now, we leave her be. To protect the forum, we wait for her to screw up, got it?"

Remus finally met Moody's eyes when the auror added, "Alright, lad? Are we of an accord on this?"

Remus nodded wordlessly, but Moody didn't relax his shoulders.

"You wear me out, Lupin. This whole month…you and everything that's gone on with it."

But he broke out into a frazzled, devilish grin all the same.

"And I wouldn't have missed it for the world. Don't you worry. We'll get the kinks out of the system. Soon, life'll be a straight road again."

The three ate a light dinner that Remus cooked with what he found in Harry's fridge -- half an onion, three potatoes, and some cooked chicken. He made a sauce, and over rice it was better than edible.

"So, whose body is this?" Harry asked with a bit of amusement, and Lupin couldn't help but smile.

"Snape's cousin Edgar. Severus had a lock of his hair stored with his potion supplies."

When Harry looked at him questioningly, he added, "Hair of a virgin over 30. Snape says it's a vital ingredient in several potions."

Moody's bushy eyebrows went up, and he felt a hint of manly empathy.

"Not a bad looking boy, though…must be the personality."

"Yes…well, according to Snape, due to recent fortuitous events in Edgar's life, the hair sample's efficacy has been voided…as with this type of sample, it's not the about the moment of harvesting but the donor's current state."

Harry studied a streak of sauce on his empty plate, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Remus….all I can say is you'd better be back to yourself before Tonks gets here, because she is not kissing that."

Moody sat up straighter and pointed his cane at Potter.

"You good-looking younglings, you're all the same! No appreciation for the average, and can't see that sex appeal comes in all shapes and forms," Moody groused, suddenly glaring at Harry, and Remus sensed a touchy subject.

"I'm not good-looking," Harry countered, his eyebrows knitted as if he'd just been slandered.

Remus leaned back, smiling and wiping tiredly at his eyes.

"Harry…."

Finally, he just laughed and shook his head. Self-perception was such an unusual thing.

By the time Tonks arrived, well after midnight, Remus had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, papers and reports strewn about him. Harry sat across from him, eyes half closed as he struggled to finish weeding through some statistics from Daniel Hale. Potter gave a drawn-out yawn.

"Believe it or not, he just fell asleep a minute ago…which is crazy….Awake thirty-eight hours and coming off a transformation."

"He's running on adrenaline." Tonks ran a hand lightly through his hair.

"I am, too, but I'm still exhausted." Harry looked numbly at the top of Remus' head before he got up and stretched, looking longingly toward the location of his bed.

"He said Grendil's potion is fantastic….cut the pain of transforming in half…And he maintained his ability to think and reason in an entirely human way…..He's been adding information on it to the presentation. I can't wait to hear Snape's report on it."

"Speaking of Snape, I hear the three of you had quite the adventure last night."

Harry shook his head, his face somewhat embarrassed as he looked away from her, grinning.

"Tonks, you have no idea……I'm going to bed," he mumbled as he shuffled slowly to his bedroom and shut the door.

Tonks watched Remus drool on his sleeve, his shoulders rising and falling slowly and silently.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she finally whispered, kissing the exposed back of his neck, fingers buried in his hair, rubbing gently, but he barely stirred for several minutes as her hand rubbed across his shoulders.

"Mmm….." he finally mumbled and sat up stiffly. "I fell asleep," he said, something of depressed guilt in his voice.

Tonks just smiled gently. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

But he immediately hesitated, something obviously on his mind that he had to say now, his face slightly nervous.

"Kingsley wants you to visit him. Why didn't you tell me about what happened?"

Tonks suddenly froze, neither speaking until she finally pulled out the chair beside him and sat down.

"We had enough to deal with the night I came over….a lot to talk about…I just couldn't throw what happened to Kingsley on top of it all…I don't know if I could have told you anyway. I was too upset…and.a week hasn't made it any easier."

"….You didn't want me to worry about him….and you….."

"That, too……."

"………Would you do something for me, if I asked?"

Nymphadora's brow slightly furrowed, the wary tilt of her head barely discernible. She knew him well enough to know something she didn't want to hear was coming..

"Maybe," she said as he studied the far corner of the table, eyes averted.

"For the next week or so….would you to go to Newquay, stay with your Dad's family, away from all of this?"

Tonks removed her hand from his knee and stared at him for a full minute, arms cross in the deafening silence.

"Remus, everything we've worked for is about to happen. How can you ask that?"

"I have a feeling that the next few days will make the history books, not just as a sidebar but as….as a very bloody time.…..You and the baby should be somewhere safe."

"I'm an auror, Remus. Or did you forget that? Did you forget that it's my job to jump into the cauldron when it boils over? That's what I do. Every week."

"But not like this. It could end up being like the worst of the war all over again."

"Remus, I'm not abandoning my post, and I'm not abandoning you."

"I've asked Moody to grant you leave."

Tonks pushed her chair quietly backwards and stood up, finger rubbing at the edge of the table as she glared at him, swallowing and trying to keep her composure.

"You had no right to do that, and he won't put me on leave or reassign me with no reason, not without my permission."

"Yes, but he's offered to-"

"_Bloody hell, so I abandon my partner and now you think I'm ready to run away from things at a moment's notice? How big of a coward do you think I am?" _

Remus looked at her carefully, his eyes slightly hurt.

"Tonks, you didn't-"

"Don't you understand why it hurts so bad – what happened to Kingsley? What that feels like to me? It-"

"Sit down."

"No, Remus. No…."

He reached out to take her hand but she backed away and walked toward the counter, looking out into the night street, still bustling with people. He watched her back, suddenly very nervous and very awake.

"You're taking the blame for what happened…..But, Nymphadora, Kingsley made a decision. His days were numbered, keeping it a secret. Both of you could have set off the monitor and at that moment, it was easier for it to be him…cleaner…..…I know it hurts, but we'll get his charges dropped….And you have to understand…he's lived with this reality for a year now, worrying about things like that. It all happened so fast, but he still knew exactly what occurred, and he did what he felt was right…….What good would it have been for you to say anything after he claimed that he set it off? They would have arrested both of you."

Tonks turned around, leaning back on the counter with arms crossed but didn't look up when she quietly said, "No one will ever take the fall for me again…or fall because I wasn't there to do my job. No one, do you understand that? I'm not running away because things get difficult. I'm not leaving…."

And Lupin knew she wouldn't want to hear him say it again, but he said it anyway. He had to…

"It's very important to me that you're safe over the next few days…and you can't be safe here….Everything is going to explode….."

"Then it explodes….But I'll be here, doing my job."

"And putting yourself and the baby in danger."

She finally looked up at him with a barely discernible shake of her head, her face exasperated. This man…..

"Remus, in a roundabout way, haven't we had this discussion a hundred times over since Grimmauld?"

And he leaned back uncomfortably in the chair.

"….What do you mean?"

"You've always guarded the people and things you care about, but you constantly put yourself in danger, take all the big risks because, for some stupid reason, you don't think _you're_ worthy of care or concern….not even from yourself….You think your life is insignificant, and you don't care how badly that self-perception hurts the people who love you…..It's one of your worst traits, Remus…that you can't see your own worth. And when you throw yourself into danger, it hurts everyone who loves you….but somehow….that doesn't matter to you….does it…."

"Tonks, you're not making sense."

"The war came first, tracking Fenrir, spying for Dumbledore….and it almost killed you, but you didn't care. It was all bigger than your life, you said. But here you are…asking me to do the same thing I asked of you so many times….asking me to take myself out of the line of danger to spare you the pain of seeing me hurt or killed."

"Tonks, you-"

"Listen! When I asked you to come back to me, to stop your work with the pack, you called me 'selfish.' And now, here you are, asking the same thing of me….wanting to pull me out of danger's way….Now that you feel the same hurt, does it make sense? All this love and fear working inside of you, it's the same thing I felt watching you leave a dozen times to rejoin the pack…...So does it feel selfish to you?…Asking this of me?"

Remus' face had gone red but he was leaning forward on his elbows, his fingers laced and his soft gaze on her as he quietly answered, "No…."

"I'm going to fight, but that doesn't mean that I'm not afraid of….of something happening to you in all of this….All the terror I felt every day you lived with the pack…It's back…..It's been back for two months…...I feel the exact same thing you're feeling now…...Remus …..can you finally understand that I love you as much as you love me?"

Slowly, Lupin's eyes went strange and his gaze dropped slowly to the floor.

"You can't," he said quietly.

"I do. Remus…." Tonks couldn't believe she found a space within herself to laugh at this conversation as she sat down and looked at him earnestly. "Remus. I would give up everything for you."

"Don't say that," he insisted, his voice trembling as he shook his head and she moved forward quickly, her hand on the back of his head to meet his lips, to shut him up as much as to touch him and he gave in, relaxing and moving forward slightly, deepening the kiss.

"I don't want to talk about this any more," he mumbled between the kisses and he felt her lips stretch against his, smiling.

"Of course you don't, because you lost." She stood up, pulling him forward lightly out of the chair and walking with him to Harry's spare room. He watched her silently from the doorway as she hung up her robe and sat tiredly on the bed, kicking off her shoes, each falling to the floor with a slight plop. She looked at him for a long moment, then finally raised fingers to her white auror shirt, working at the buttons.

He joined her, slowly shrugging out of his clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor before he clicked off the light silently and they crept into the bed. Remus finally realized how exhausted he was, how good it felt to lay down and how Tonks, nestled in his arms, felt even better.

Sleep immediately tugged at him, pulling him downward into peaceful darkness, but he managed to whisper, "I had something for you….a ring…the guards destroyed it."

And she opened her eyes, could barely see an outline of his face through the faint light coming from the window behind him.

"I don't want anything from you, Remus, except your heart."

"…..But it was…..my heart….all my love for you in it…to make it…." he mumbled, his voice airy, half asleep.

And she just smiled softly in the darkness, her lips finding his forehead and lingering.

**tbc**

* * *

_Author's Note: The calm before the storm, guys. Two more chapters and an epilogue to go! Hope this finds everyone well and you're all looking forward to seeing this whole thing wrapped up. And sorry I'm still so slow to update! Oh, Real Life! Next is the forum, so call the Ministry and reserve a seat. (big grin) Wishing everyone a wonderful April!_

_I remain yours,_

_rane_


	20. Cruxification

_Out through the fields and the woods  
And over the walls I have wended;  
I have climbed the hills of view  
And looked at the world, and descended;  
I have come by the highway home  
And lo, it is ended._

_Robert Frost_

* * *

**Chapter 20 – "Crux-ification"**

Remus apparated from Harry's warm, quiet flat into the noisy morning chill of magical London, breath catching in his lungs at the sudden change of scenery before him. At least two thousand people lined the streets, bunched in loose groups of like-minded individuals. And in front of him, waiting at the pavement edge, was Severus, robe hood thrown over his head as he looked at Remus from under the cowl with a scowl only Lupin would recognize as a smile.

"You're slightly late. But good morning nonetheless," he rasped lowly as Remus walked over, eyes nervously tracing the never-ending sea of people.

"Severus…All these people….I can't believe this."

"And why not?"

"Shouldn't they be in Ministry hall by now?"

"By law, Forum attendance is limited to 3,000."

Remus wiped at his face and went a shade paler.

"It's….there aren't 3,000 people in there."

At that, Snape's eyes narrowed in unusual amusement.

"They've expanded the hall, Lupin. Attendance has reached legal capacity for the first time since the post-war crime hearings….But come now, our time is limited."

They immediately started towards the towering Ministry building, Severus threading carefully through the crowd and calmly checking over his shoulder to look at Remus, who unflaggingly eyed the large pack of Lycanthropes gathered ahead.

"Severus, I think they _all_ came!"

"Yes….And the Lycanthropes are very much aware that they cannot attend."

"They might not let me in, either. 'Wallis updated the roster yesterday, but it could be messy."

Severus shook his head, slightly breathless from exertion as the building grew closer.

"The entrance waiver you obtained last month is still in effect….And because you worded it as a blanket clause for Forum speakers, it shall cover Cretagus Grendil's attendance, as well…..But the others, of course…."

Remus nodded, shifting to let several people by as he continued to walk.

"I know, Severus….It just doesn't seem right."

The werewolves wore dress clothes and were the quietest of the masses lining the streets. A large magical screen behind them ran a list of faces and names – those who had died in LCH since its inception, many of the lost souls laughing and hugging friends and family in captured seconds. For a moment, Remus saw young Marcus Hale flash across the screen, smiling, flanked on either side by his proud parents at Hogwarts graduation.

Lupin's face tightened in sudden hurt and he looked away from the images of the dead, shifting to the living group below who stood amidst signs and banners in calm vigil, barely even talking amongst themselves.

Remus understood. Despite the boiling anger within them, they convened quietly, frustration in check, and had arrived dressed in their best clothes. Shabby but tidy, they would to prove to the masses that they deserved to rejoin society once again as equals. Yet…Remus couldn't help but notice that they stood out in the streets like oil in water, those untouched by Lycanthropy keeping their distance.

As they reached the quiet pack, Remus pulled his robe hood farther down, breathing out in nervous frustration. God, he wanted to talk to them; but he had promised Moody he'd walk the streets incognito until he reached the Ministry doors and identified himself to the guards.

Moody knew the crowds would teeter on rioting all morning long and didn't want any one group losing it over something they couldn't explain. He was right, of course. It took such a small spark of uncertainty to light insurgence.

But as Remus and Severus shuffled through the werewolves, Fletcher Kelly, wearing an oversized waist coat and undersized trousers, turned in shock and began a furtive chase, dodging jaggedly through the crowd to grab the taller hooded man's sleeve.

"You! Hey, mate!"

Remus kept walking but cut his eyes to Fletcher, a finger to his lips before he touched the other man's shoulder in greeting.

"Lupin?...Merlin, Lupin, you're alive!" the man managed, stopping Remus with a long, rough hug before he pulled back and whispered, "I know your smell," and Remus returned his grin, glad that Fletcher caught him.

"We can't afford to dally," Snape warned, annoyed by what he considered small talk in light of the day's schedule. And the two kept on with Fletcher in tow, moving slower as the crowd thickened near the Ministry building's edges. Lupin's voice was low and guarded when he said, "Fletcher, I'm sorry for not stopping, but I shouldn't talk to anyone, not until the forum has ended…..Very few people know I'm alive."

"Hell, I imagine, but, God, it's bloody wonderful to see you! And don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Fletcher grinned broadly, matching Lupin's gait as they slipped lithely through the human thicket, constantly moving. For a second, Lupin turned, his eyes catching the deep scars clefting Kelly's face.

"From the last moon?"

"Yeah….but I was a helluva lot better off than you when I woke…There musta been a barrel's worth of blood coming out of your cell!...I came to in the morning….blood everywhere…..I watched that Potter boy drag you out, deader lookin' than a doornail. How'd you manage to make it through that?"

Remus just smiled gently, eyes moving inward for a moment.

"Everything happens for a reason. Perhaps I had things to do first."

"We all do, mate. We'll stay out here all day, all week if we have to, until the decisions go down. And we've already talked it through. If it's denied, we'll leave quietly and plan for the next move. The next _peaceful_ move. We all know how it is, mate. We can't afford violence. People watch us with spyglasses…all the time."

Remus let out a breath. He'd worried about that possibility all week – violence if it all went to hell, the werewolves boiling over…And Kelly could see the pent up tension in Lupin's face.

"Don't worry, Lupin," he said reassuringly. "We can't go in there, but all our friends and family could. We got reps in the seats. Lots of 'em. And we'll stay out here 'til it all ends."

As they neared the final barrier where only Forum members, Ministry employees, and pass holders could continue, Fletcher gave an ironic laugh.

"But for now, I gotta stay in the backyard with the rest of the dogs."

Remus put a tight hand on Kelly's shoulder, the squeeze of his fingers saying a thousand things.

"When this is all over, Kelly, I think you and I deserve a few drinks together, after everything we've been through."

Fletcher's scars went dark as he tried to keep his emotions in check, but he quickly lost the battle.

"Whatever goes down today, Remus Lupin, for better or for worse, you got yourself a deal. The best of British luck to you! You go in there with all our hopes!"

He shook Lupin's hand in both of his and quickly disappeared, the crowd enveloping him as he withdrew. And in a few scant steps, Remus and Severus reached the towering Ministry entrance, grey stairs trailing several flights upward to four enormous doors where black-clad guards, glowing blue from their magical riot shields, stood at attention, unholstered wands in their gloved right hands.

Severus took two steps alone then eyed Remus, who stood frozen and unmoving, staring at the trail upward. The potionsmaster pulled out a black metal pocket watch and gave it a quick glance then impatiently clicked it shut.

"You have nine minutes to enter the Forum hall before they lock the doors."

"…This is it."

"Yes, this is it."

Severus reached down and grabbed his arm, pulling him forward. But as Remus began to walk, Severus cleared his throat, fingers clenching and unclenching around his cane.

"Lupin….Grendil will present my report…alongside his study of the mass wolfsbane administration this past full moon."

Remus looked at him sharply.

"You're bowing out," he said in disbelief, tinged with anger. But Snape's answer was adamant and resigned, each word slow and succinct.

"I am simply leaving my report's presentation in the hands of one who is unknown to this world. The ill will concerning my name is no help to you or this cause. I have told you that from the beginning, and since Grendil has now agreed to take part, it is in the best interest of the Forum that he assumes this duty."

With each step upward they moved away from the bustling crowd below into a quieter sphere, even more electric with the morning's tension.

"Walk in with me…By my side, Severus."

Snape's sharp brow immediately furrowed and he said lowly, "That would only exacerbate things."

Remus stopped.

"Will you do this for me?.….As my friend?"

"The Forum seating area allows for six people only. Cretagus is taking my place."

"Then sit beside it. Sit with us."

After a few loaded seconds, Severus sighed and looked to the heavens; and Remus allowed himself a smile, knowing Snape well enough by now to tell when he had caved.

"So in we go," Remus said, and Severus just dipped his head slightly.

"In we go…quite."

Sharply-dressed guards immediately took their wands. Remus endured several magical scans and had to unbutton his clothes twice to show his registry number, while security poured over his paperwork, finding everything in order but exchanging whispered, confused conversations with their superiors before allowing him to pass.

And then, in a strange and heavy daze, as if in a dream, Remus found himself standing at the main hall's twin doors – tall, heavy and maple with brass handles cast like arching dragons returning to water. A cold trickle of sweat ran down his back.

"Thank you, Severus."

In reply, Snape just put a palm on the second door to match Lupin's and they pushed the doors open decisively, walking in side by side.

On the 28th tier, Nymphadora Tonks sat by Molly Weasley and shifted nervously in her seat as she studied the crowd. The entire auror force was there, scattered strategically throughout the hall to cover every nook and cranny; and for the tenth time in an hour, she touched her tucked-away wand in reassurance.

The magically-expanded room was gargantuan and even larger upwards, 3,000 people nestled in tier upon tier. And as the two men came into view, two battle-worn veterans walking down the narrow aisle below, a wave of murmuring gasps began until the building buzzed like a giant hive of humanity and confusion. Tonks' heart jumped in her throat to finally see him, pale and clean-shaven, his long hair in order but combed awkwardly, the cut too long to manage. And, Merlin, he had worn that threadbare brown suit. It was patched and pressed but sad nonetheless.

"Oh, I could have cut his hair!" Molly Weasley hissed in Nymphadora's ear and Tonks just smiled and whispered back, "He wouldn't let me cut it. And he wouldn't let us buy him new clothes. He said, 'This is who I am.'"

"He's a stubborn man," the matriarch said, shaking her head. Under other circumstances, Tonks would have smiled. But she couldn't muster it this morning.

"Oh, I'm well aware."

Much to Lupin's surprise, the collective hum blanketing the hall slowly morphed into scattered clapping. And as the cacophonic crowd grew even louder, several people disappeared with a fast pop, silencing those around them.

From the raised Ministry platform, Scrimgeour recovered just enough to lean into his wandophone and steadily say, "We _will_ have it quiet in here. I remind those in attendance that if anyone's voice registers above 25 decibels or you move within one meter from your chosen seat, you will be automatically apparated outside the building and will _not_ be allowed readmittance."

Remus focused on the seating area ahead; but when the clapping began, he looked carefully about and managed a nod, shocked to see how many faces looked back at him in approval…..And he sensed her, surrounded by an aura of lavender and soft pink only he could see, halfway up the tier, her hands clasped in front of face with worry.

_I love you. It will all be okay._

Lupin's words sounded in Nymphadora's mind, clear as the voices of those around her; and when she nodded, he smiled before turning back to the long aisle ahead.

As they reached the Forum block, the other members immediately rose and welcomed him, something of reassurance in their firm hands. And when Remus finally sat, Scrimgeour stood as if to counteract him, his voice rising well above 26 decibels. Apparently, the hall's sound law didn't apply to everyone.

"Auror Moody, you are aware, I'm sure, that this man was listed as deceased during the recent London City Holding investigation?"

Sitting next to Harry, Moody stood with a grunt and Remus caught his godson's eyes. The two exchanged a small nod just as Moody stated, "Yes, Minister. Because the auror force had ample reason to believe his life was in grave danger, Mr. Lupin was placed under our protection. You will find that all the paperwork for his case was submitted within the allotted time-frame and is in order at the main auror office….if you wanna see it."

Scrimgeour's mouth opened and closed, wild hair matching the confusion in his eyes; but he finally regained decorum and stiffly moved to the podium, warily considering the enormous crowd.

"Very well then….It is 9:00 AM…..And it appears that our Forum committee for today's agenda is now complete…with one unexpected substitution and one addition…that was…until recently….subtracted. Now then…"

As Scrimgeour began, Remus slowly trailed his eyes upward until they landed on Dolores Umbridge, who sat near Scrimgeour's empty seat, her entire body shaking like jelly, her face furiously red like a toad in boiling water.

_You won't live to see another moon, you goddamned abomination. Not another moon. And that greasy haired gimp leg bastard beside you, either. How DARE YOU…._

Remus had to stop himself from sending her the things he thought. She'd have him arrested on the spot. But he could see _her_ thoughts in her pin-point pupils, in the shaking of her shoulders…..Merlin…if they managed to get through the day without rampant bloodshed, it'd be a miracle.

He held her beady, livid gaze for a full minute then gave her a small, loaded smile and looked back to Scrimgeour, serious.

"And so we will hear today from the six forum members, each of whom have fifteen minutes allotted to speak and no more. We will also hear from ten representatives of our world who have requested the allotted five-minute platform available for responding to the issues at hand. At the conclusion of forum presentations, the Ministry will distribute magical ballots to those in attendance, and the council will convene for a maximum of five hours. I must reiterate for this collective that although ballot votes are taken into consideration by the Ministry, the Council is responsible for the final decisions. And those final decisions may, of course, be veto'd by me, the Prime Minister. We will not take questions from the collective, and you are once again reminded to stay in your seats and keep your voices below 26 decibels. I now turn the Forum over to its first speaker…..Mr. Remus Lupin."

Moving carefully through the dead quiet, Remus walked to the podium and organized his notes, gripping the scroll edges in white fingers as he clipped them open, heart beating in his ears. He had the presentation down to fourteen minutes and fifty seconds.

_Don't dally. Open your mouth and get moving. _

With a strong breath, Remus began, the flowcharts Harry made ticking up behind him one at a time – concrete comparisons of this and that. The burden LCH placed on the taxpayers, on the Ministry and, by proxy, on its people. The beneficial programs their country had lost in order to re-allocate money to "the werewolf problem." The vast and unexplained expenditures of Dolores Umbridge's department. The wasted funds and the wasted lives. The rise in werewolf crime that coincided with advent of LCH. The lack of crime in the last thirty days, since lycanthropes had once again received a margin of liberty. He didn't deny that a problem existed but explained that it could be ameliorated in a cheaper, more humane manner – a manner that would benefit everyone. And with great alacrity and efficiency, he presented his ideas for a wolfsbane program.

"One dosage of Cretagus Grendil's new wolfsbane formula cost only seven sickles to create. It would cost the Ministry just 304 galleons to medicate 718 werewolves. With two potionsmasters, four potions assistants, two people to attend to administration the five days before the moon, and one auror representative to report those who haven't arrived for their dose, monthly cost of this program, as you can see from the chart behind me, would run 5,096 galleons per month. Assuming that each of these people was paid the properly allocated wage for his or her position, cost of this program would run 96,130 galleons less than what it currently cost the Ministry to "maintain" the werewolf population with London City Holding, in its present incarnation."

As he continued, Remus was surprised by the occasional nods, the interested faces, and the general aura of support emanating from the crowd. And before Remus knew it, he had wrapped up his presentation with twenty-five seconds to spare. As he took his seat, he couldn't relax, though. They had only touched the surface.

Marietta Brocklehurst and Cornwallis Fletchley both covered the legal issues of London City Holding, putting up several Ministry rules concerning civil liberties for all to see and circling stanzas magically in glaring red, which only intensified the horrors inflicted under the phrase "wartime adjustments."

Samuel Spinnet spoke eloquently on the dangers of history repeating itself, talking quickly but at length about the Dark Creature Massacre of 1308, the Salem Witch Hunts, and the riot lynchings that followed Voldemort's death (a violent embarrassment still fresh on everyone's minds.) And he ended with words that reverberated through the room, clinging to people like gossamer.

"We only wish to restore equal opportunity to a world that still desperately shakes from the blows of war. Mr. Lupin's presentation and the ideas outlined therein could help stop this sanctioned and unsanctioned civil violence in our land and foster peace. From the standpoint of economics, it would free up an enormous sum of money for our government to use more adequately -- to rebuild our freedoms, our hopes, and our liberties. And as we know, of these desires, liberty is the most tenuous. For it cannot be caged into a charter or handed ready-made to the next generation. Each generation must recreate liberty for its own times, and whether or not we establish freedom rests within ourselves."

Marianthe Brown, the historian of the group, took a more personal approach than expected, talking of her small werewolf son, who waited outside with his father, the fate of his young life held in delicate balance. And Daniel Hale talked of public misperception and how well he understood it, being a person who had once lived deep within the walls of prejudice…..before Fenrir bit his son.

"It's easy to label 'the other' at a threat, but when 'the other' becomes your brother, your lover or, in my case, your child, those misperceptions, that perceived threat, falls away. And you are left only with the soul of the person you love. Daniel was a brilliant, happy child; and after he was bitten, I saw how he suffered, not because he saw himself differently, but because the world saw him as such. And because of our world….because of our current laws, my beautiful son, who never harmed a soul…who graduated with honors from Hogwarts, who planned to attend university and study potions….He died alone on a cold floor in London City Holding. He died screaming for help as he slowly bled to death. He begged….for hours. And no one came. London City Holding killed my child….my beautiful child….and that woman sitting over there created the laws that allowed it."

From her high seat on the raised platform, Umbridge made a small noise, a short hum of disapproval but smiled with a tilt of her head as Hale left the podium.

Of the special interest groups who followed, Remus was shocked that three supported their cause. And of the seven that didn't, one speaker was actually swayed by what she had heard. Sherwin Diggle, a mother of four and treasurer of the Citizens for a Better Tomorrow, spoke only half-heartedly on behalf of her coalition, ending with heartening words.

"We are a group of concerned individuals. We worry about our country and its progress, and we act with the best of intentions….but I must add something of a personal nature….. It appears that terrible acts have taken place this past year under the guise of protection and patriotism. And this unsettles me. It unsettles me. After hearing what I have heard today, I realize that Citizens for a Better Tomorrow has been steered incorrectly on many things…by the media, by our leaders, and by our own deep-seated prejudices. We want what's best for our world, but I must ask….Are we supporting what is best? These acts…these violent, atrocious deaths, have been seemingly veiled from public view by those responsible for informing us…As an individual, I cannot completely stand behind CBT's current stance on these issues until I learn more, until I do what every citizen should do – search for the truth. We must not accept news passively like spoon-fed babies, for we cannot afford to be underdeveloped in our understanding of the world around us. And so, I have presented CBT's stance, and I have ended with my thoughts on the matter. Thank you."

She was the last speaker and; as Diggle descended from the podium, the massive room went still, vibrating with quiet tension as people shifted in their chairs, anticipating the next step. Scrimgeour cleared his throat and leaned into the wandaphone to say, "Does the lead speaker have anything to add?"

Remus blinked twice and looked around, slightly alarmed as Marianthe Brown pushed at his elbow, smiling.

"Go," she coaxed, and he could tell from her eyes that she was happy with the way things had unfolded.

"I didn't know anything about a closing statement," he whispered, and from behind him, Fletchley leaned forward and said in his ear, "This isn't common at all. Take the opportunity."

"Mr. Lupin?" Scrimgeour repeated with an edge of impatience, and Remus stood, wiping hands self-consciously on his pants as he limped over to the podium, unsure of what he would say until his mouth opened and the words began to fall out in careful, measured tones.

"……I am…..unfortunately…or fortunately…the oldest living Lycanthrope in the magical world…..Fenrir Greyback took a large portion of my life away from me as a small child…on one moonlit night….….And I took his life, not so long ago. For a short time, people called me a hero for doing that….but….the truth is that I killed him in anger. Instead of thinking of how I could make the world better, I took his life in fury….I killed him in vengeance, and that has haunted me. I tell you this, because people often do good things for terrible reasons and…terrible things for the common good. And most often, actions moving in either direction are harmful, in some way. The current path to making people feel secure from werewolves in this wake of war is misguided….I do understand how the current laws have happened, but I also realize that they are harmful laws, founded in an irrationality bred by war's fear and torment. Greyback's reign is over, yet werewolves untouched by crime or criminal intent have existed this past year within a newfound horror. Three-hundred and seventy four have died because of lack of treatment, have bled to death from easily treatable wounds; and because of our illness, we lack many rights that freely come to you."

Remus cleared his throat, looking down intently at the blank podium desk in front of him.

"We spend full moons in prison cells where the medication that could help us from hurting others as well as ourselves is denied….I wish I had the words to explain to you all what it's like to have an illness and then to have the one means available to you to ameliorate it snatched away…...When our government does this, it makes our illness our existence. Minister Scrimgeour, when you hinder goodness, when you define a people by their shortcomings, you kill their spirit. And when you crush a spirit, you leave someone with nothing but the flaws by which you identify him. Such an action breeds self-loathing and doubt, which festers into misery. And misery is the great killer of hope within us. When you create, by your own hand, a people with no hope, you create humans in which the monster surges. Perhaps this occurs more directly and more literally in Lycanthropes, but it is true of all people. We simply ask for the chance to be more…..to once again have the means to rejoin society. To each person here today, I'd like to remind you….that although we are all different, each and every one of us…. we are one. I desperately want peace for our world…..but peace shall never come completely until it comes for everyone…until people who have committed no crime are free from judgment, regardless of their physical ailments…. We've supposedly entered an age of new light and promise. Those of us who have survived LCH….We ask only to walk toward that new promise with you….We're grateful for your attendance and your attention….Thank you."

Clapping wasn't allowed, but Remus felt himself go scarlet when a good half of the crowd stood for him in silence, hundreds of bolted chairs creaking as the seats swiveled back.

As if to shorten any sign of approval, Scrimgeour immediately announced, "Thus, we conclude the presentation phase of Forum 93. Each of you will have a ballot appear before you. Please note that they are seat-designated. You have five minutes to fill them out, and when the last portion is completed, they will automatically transfer to our poll room. This Forum will reconvene in the next one to five hours after the Ministry Council has reached decisions on the issues at hand. You may leave your seat but not the building. That is all."

Severus stood with both hands resting on Dumbledore's cane and Remus didn't return to his forum seat but took the newly emptied one by Snape. Silently, he let his hands fall to his lap, his shoulders sagging in relief.

"You did well," Snape said with something of slight amusement playing in his eyes, but Remus just exhaled and said quietly, "It's over."

Snape watched the Ministry council file out, Umbridge throwing them all a look of pure fire, and he answered, "Lupin, it is far from over. In fact, it may have just begun."

* * *

Tonks found Remus talking uncomfortably to a large huddle of well-meaning people in the hallway and broke out her crowd control voice as she passed through group. 

"Official auror business, everyone. I hate to drag him away right now, but it can't be helped. He has forms to sign." Several nodded warily. They all knew the grudging necessity of government paperwork; and as they dissipated, she broke out in a grin, lightly touching his coat buttons.

"Did you ever imagine it would go so well?" she said.

He looked terribly worried.

"I feel like we got through one hoop, but the next few will be in flames."

Tonks nodded and turned to look at the noisy crowd that jammed every square meter of the hallways.

"The auror force is evenly distributed throughout the building, and Moody is watching Umbridge like a hawk. She hasn't left the council room."

"She won't," he said. "If things don't go her way…..I can't imagine she'll do anything until this evening, but….."

Tonks turned back and looked at him, her eyes tight.

"Moody's ready. We all are, Remus."

In the final hour, Remus sat alone in a quiet, empty room he found on the supply floor. Looking out the window in silence, he watched the people below, moving slowly, their paces forming an ever-changing pattern on the light pavement, their shapes mutating as they crossed distortions in the blown glass pane. And he fell inward, succumbing to tethers that pulled nervously in every corner of his mind.

_It all comes down to this..…The life of every werewolf….our families……Tonks and our child…Who would have ever thought in two short months so much could change…What will become of us…What is that woman doing right now…What…_

Suddenly, Snape's rasping voice sounded quietly from behind him.

"Holed away with your thoughts….I should have known."

Remus didn't take his eyes from the window.

"How'd you find me?"

"Moody is constantly aware of your location. As is Potter, it seems. For your information, he is currently holding a meeting in the lower hall for what he calls….Dumbledore's Army."

Lupin smiled softly, folded arms tightening a bit more across his chest.

"Harry knows Umbridge well...She could unravel everything we've worked for in a heartbeat….."

"She could."

"I've talked to the other werewolves….If this ends badly, many of us will go to Germany…to the forest colony there."

Snape's long silence voiced his opinion.

"They're ferals, Lupin. You know that."

"But they're free."

"As usual, you anticipate the worst possible outcome."

Remus chuckled, finally turning to his friend.

"Probably the only reason I'm still breathing."

Snape gave him a rare, small smile and walked to the window, wincing into the light.

"I've not spent much time around Scrimgeour since the war….But from the bare reflections I see of him in the media….and watching the man today. He is but a husk of the strong-willed auror from years ago….Scrimgeour is….deeply entrenched in the social mores of political survival, it seems. And because of that, he will follow the majority vote. I assume from the number of people who stood as you left the podium, the majority will vote favorably. Do you not agree?"

Remus wanted to nod in affirmation but couldn't commit himself, and Snape just smoothed one of his eyebrows with a bony knuckle, realizing Lupin wouldn't answer.

"I've come to retrieve you. They're reconvening as we speak."

When Scrimgeour finally emerged, Council trailing closely behind him, the re-seated masses went silent. You could have heard a pebble drop as he approached the stand and absentmindedly adjusted his collar before observing the crowd over his bifocals, mouth pursed.

Remus carefully watched Umbridge. She looked calm, her heavy face serene as if she had just risen from a satisfying afternoon nap. God, what did it mean. In the high balcony, Tonks had already drawn her wand and scanned the audience like a hawk, heart pounding behind her eyes.

"We, the Ministry responsible for the governing of this world, as part of Forum 93, have heard statements from sixteen people on this day. We have reached a decision

concerning each proposal, and these decisions will now be officially declared……"

In the second row, Harry turned and looked behind him at Ron, sitting with Bill and Fleur five rows back…Neville seventeen rows farther and Luna in the second tier, as well as fifteen other members of Dumbledore's Army, fresh from their first meeting in a year and ready for action.

"Regarding the conditions, operation, and status of London City Holding and the proposal of a blanket wolfsbane program, we, the Ministry, have agreed upon the following alterations to the current system. For a trial period of six months, London City Holding shall remain open and operating in a manner similar to the past full moon. A wolfsbane program shall be installed immediately and a potionsmaster hired. We request that Cretagus Grendil remain involved in the program for the sake of scientific research and study. If he chooses to decline the position, another research potionsmaster shall be hired. Should the wolfsbane program prove its long-term efficacy, both scientifically and socially, and Lycanthrope social integration has been deemed successful, London City Holding shall be predominantly closed after a period of six months. A smaller holding establishment will be built for Lycanthropes new to our world who will be required to undergo full moon observation in a non-incarceration environment for a period of one year. Of those in attendance today 2,542 voted yea to changes in the system, and 458 voted nay. The Ministry Council voted in favor of change by a number of nine to one; and I, the Minister, have concurred with the majority."

As the masses murmured in approval, Remus closed his eyes in relief and felt several quiet, firm hands go to his shoulders.

"Regarding Section 97, which prohibits the legal hiring of dark creatures within magical commerce and society, we, the Ministry, concur that this law is a product of war and should no longer remain active in a time of peace; however, we do not agree that a new law promoting affirmative action should be installed in its place. Let dark creatures work alongside regular witches and wizards, neither favored nor denied regarding their employment opportunities. Of the 3,000 in attendance, 2,592 voted yea in favor of section 97's abolishment and 408 voted nay. The Ministry Council voted in favor of these changes by a number of nine to one, and I, the Minister, have concurred with the majority."

"Regarding Sub-statute B of Section 108, which states that Lycanthropes may not enter government-operated buildings and parks or ride public transportation, we, the Ministry, have determined this law to also fall under war-time concerns and have struck it from the ledger. Of the 3,000 in attendance, 2,847 voted yea in favor of abolishing sub-statue B of Section 108, and 153 voted nay. The Ministry Council voted in favor of these changes by a number of nine to one, and I, the Minister, have concurred with the majority."

Scrimgeour cleared his throat and shuffled through the papers in his hands before looking up briefly.

"And I do have an addendum….regarding a case that was brought up by Barrister Fletchley during his presentation…..a case mentioned briefly by several other Forum members, as well…. Regarding the incarceration of Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt after the divulgence of his Lycanthropy while attempting to enter Building 182 ¾ on the 23rd day of April, we have dropped his charges in light of Section 108's deletion. Effective immediately, he is referred back to his superiors within the Auror force to continue his former duties."

Tonks dropped her head and fought back tears, her fingers white around the wand gripped tightly in her hand.

_Merlin, Kingsley…They did it._

"As for other considerations that were not included on the public ballot….Regarding Section 143, which outlines 'Crimes of a Sexual Nature' and sub-statute E that currently forbids Lycanthropes from taking non-Lycanthropic spouses or fathering children, we, the Ministry have concluded that this law is universally unethical and should be immediately struck from Section 143. The Ministry Council voted in favor of these changes by a number of nine to one, and I, the Minister, have concurred with the majority."

"And finally, regarding the alteration of the Werewolf Registration Program, we the Ministry find it in the best interest of our government to keep records of all conditions that could pose a threat to the general populace in the event of a lapse in treatment. Because of this, the current registration system shall remain in effect; however, the Ministry does support alternative methods of permanently marking the body other than firebranding. These magical techniques shall be resumed immediately and the burning of symbols on the body abolished………"

"In closing, let me say that many practices are initiated in war, because they are needed. They are required to maintain order. The Forum system was started by myself two years ago to provide a voice for the people, to allow me to gauge when certain restraints upon our world should be relinquished and when they should be retained. Today is a magnificent example of our government at its best. We have chosen to drop one more necessary shackle installed during the war and move on to a better tomorrow. In the words of Mr. Lupin, let us all move forward together. I thank you all for your attendance. This marks the completion of Forum 98."

But just as Rufus Scrimgeour banged his gavel to release the masses, an audible pop sounded and Dolores Umbridge disappeared.

**tbc**

_Author's Note: _

_First things first, paper citations! Several sentences of Samuel Spinnet's closing statement quote Florence Ellinwood, who played a very important role in procuring voting rights for American women. Go, Florence! _:)

_Hope this installment wasn't too…governmental… I tried to deal with everything without sounding like the Congress was in session, but that was hard to pull off._

_I wrote the last three chapters simultaneously, skipping from one to the other, and the rough draft of this one kept getting longer and longer. By the time it reached 48 pages, I figured the best thing to do was divide it and polish the first half so I could get it out to you. The second half (now chapter 21) will be up the week of June 4th (I promise!) and the final chapter and the epilogue very soon after that. By July 1, Blood will be entirely wrapped up._

_This and the next installment are, without a doubt, the hardest things I've ever tried to write, so I hope it doesn't show. _

_21 smacks somewhat of sweetness and light, but 22 will taste of foul darkness! (evil cackle) Look for some cameos and, unfortunately, a character death or two. Thank you for sticking with me, guys. Love and peace to you all, _

_Rane _


End file.
